#naruto running across the desert

[revasserium]

fear every raindrop

sasuke; 837 words; fluff and angst but mostly just atmospheric-ness. for @dira333

sasuke has always loved the rain; it has always spoken to him in ways the cloudless blues of a sunstruck sky could never (but he’s certain naruto could have). he has always understood the thick rumble of a horizon line jagged with thunder; he has always appreciated the deep sorrow of each tiny raindrop, which together can form a torrent so large it has the power to drown out a whole village. because he understands sorrow — if nothing else.

and his whole life has been loss, hasn’t it? a constant and immutable stream of losing, of waking each morning wondering what else the world will take today, and going to sleep each night knowing the answer is — always more than you think.

he meets you on a rainy day.

outside a way station, beside a dirt road that seems to run parallel to the turning world, he catches you falling — actually falling, slipping on a patch of mud. his single arm bars across your chest, knocking the wind from you even as you wheeze, your nose nearly catching the drenched earth beneath you.

“careful,” he says, his voice soft as he helps you straighten again. and one glance at you tells him that you’re the furthest thing from a ninja a person could be: innocent. it shines through you like a beacon, beckons to him like a lighthouse on a deserted shore and he finds himself irrevocably drawn to you — a magnet to his compass rose, the moon’s pull to the tide’s endless flow.

“th-thanks! sorry…” you laugh, ducking your head into a short, awkward sort of bow as you straighten to peer up at him through your rain-slicked bangs. he fights the urge to look away.

“are you…”

sasuke bites back a wince for the words he knows will come, the curiosity, the realization, and then — inevitably — the accusation. he braces for it.

and…

“are you hungry?”

sasuke blinks.

you’re grinning up at him, not a single thread of apprehension in sight as you lace your fingers behind your back and motion towards the thin strip of forest path.

“my family owns a ramen place in the town just over this hill — i was running an errand, but i got caught in the rain — thank god you were here to save me!” your smile is bright, so bright and defiantly so against the gloom of the weather above you. the rain has yet to abate but sasuke thinks that he doesn’t mind. your smile is more than enough to shelter him from the storm.

“ah…” he doesn’t know what to say, because no one had ever trained him for this, not in the delicate dance of propriety, not in the precarious balance between casual jest and incrimination. he finds that he has no tools in his arsenal for this, but then —

“c’mon, my treat. it’s the least i can do for my savior!”

savior.

he savors that word, basks in the halcyon glow of his warmth, wishes he could sink his fingers into the heart of its brightness, tip it back into his mouth and swallow it whole. he wishes it was something that, someday, he might be truly deemed to be.

it is not as good as irchiraku’s. but then again, very few things are. though, you make up for it in your animated ramblings, in the way you introduce him to the sweet-faced woman behind the counter as you brush through the doorway of the tiny ramen shop, in the way you crouch down to scritch a fat orange cat behind the ears, stepping aside so he can offer his own hand for the cat to sniff and inspect.

the fat, orange cat levels him with a severe sort of gaze before it slumps back down and opens his mouth his great, big yawn.

“i think he likes you!”

sasuke can only nod, shaking his bangs out to cover his eyes, hiding behind that one last bastion of darkness as you lead him to a back table.

it is not as good as ichiraku’s… but he finds himself hesitant to leave all the same.

outside, the storm still brews, thick and angry just beyond the tops of those faraway trees.

“you should stay till the storm blows out — it’s dangerous to go wandering in this weather!”

sasuke almost laughs, because when was the last time someone had ever put him and danger in the same sentence without the implied causation? when was the last time someone had warned him of the danger, instead of warning of the danger of him?

he drinks his soup slowly, polishing off whole bowl with a soft exhale.

the sweet-faced woman smiles wide as she peers into his empty bowl.

“would you like seconds?”

sasuke sets down his chopsticks.

“please.”

it’s not as good as ichiraku’s but… it’s still the best ramen he’s had in years.

[silentwalrus]

So badly want her parents to see me nine feet high Naruto running across the Arizona desert towards them like FRIDGEEEESSSS

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Getting To Know Sensei

Words: 1,918

Team Minato Splits AU

Characters: Hatake Kakashi & Haruno Sakura

Lunchtime was precious to Sakura.

It presented her with a rare opportunity to sit down and relax, and it even came with a wonderful home-cooked meal that her Sensei made for her, though she wasn’t quite sure how exactly he made it.

She’d never seen him pull out anything resembling a pot or pan, and other than lunch they survived off of food that they could easily cook over a fire. Fish was the standard, but rabbits, squirrels, and other small animals that didn’t need to be cut up and preserved were what most of her meals consisted of.

Lunch, though, was special. Onigiri, Tamagayaki, cucumber maki. Her Sensei went all out when it came to lunch.

“You did good today,” he made his way past her, dropping a hand in her hair and tousling it so that pink strands flew in every direction. “A bit more work and you’ll master the mud wall jutsu.”

Sakura’s ears perked up. “And then you’ll teach me something else?”

“Slow down,” he insisted. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Sinking back a little, she sighed. After a week straight of grueling training, she was beginning to get bored. There were only so many push-ups she could do before her arms snapped in half, and running through the forest was a lot more fun when she wasn’t trying to hunt down eight impossibly fast hounds. 

“You’re always welcome to go back to Konoha,” he reminded her. “I’m sure you’d get sufficient training there.”

Thinking back to her village, Sakura couldn’t help but cringe. There were still things she could learn of course, but not enough. Naruto was receiving one-on-one training from Rin-Sensei, and even though she’d tried to ask for more training she’d been turned down, twice.

Rin-Sensei's rejection hurt the most because she was supposed to be the one who helped Sakura grow stronger. She was her Jonin-Sensei, and while Sakura could understand the pressure her Sensei felt to help Naruto grow it still sucked. 

Naruto’s growth should not have resulted in her being left behind and forgotten about.

Tsunade-sama’s rejection hurt a little bit less, but it still sucked. For the first time since she’d graduated from the Acadamy, she finally felt like she’d found her path. If she became a medical shinobi she would be able to protect her teammates better.

She wouldn’t feel like she was always chasing after them, trying her best to catch up but always falling short. 

That dream had been crushed with an unreasonably harsh ‘No’, and Sakura had found herself with nowhere else to turn to. At least, not until Hound-Sensei had arrived with an offer to train her and only her.

Finally, she had a Sensei of her own. Someone who wanted to help her grow stronger and wouldn’t be distracted by Naruto or Sasuke. All she had to do was promise to work hard and talk to Rin-Sensei before she left. Once she’d assured Rin-Sensei and Tsunade-sama that she wasn’t deserting the village and Rin-Sensei had expressed her trust for the Hound Shinobi, it was done.

Sakura packed her bags, said goodbye to her parents, and promised Ino that when she returned she would be able to beat her in a spar easily. A promise which Ino immediately returned with the same vigor. 

“No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “I’m good here, thanks.”

“Of course, you are,” sitting across from her, he waved toward the bento box he’d handed her when he called for a lunch break. “Eat. you’ll need the energy for the afternoon.”

Words had never been terrifying to Sakura before, but somehow everything Hound-sensei said seemed to set her on edge. At first, she’d told herself that it was because he was someone she didn’t know well, but over the last few weeks she’d come to realize that it wasn’t her main problem.

What she knew about him was that he was kind and intelligent, and although he could be tough on training he never pushed her so hard that she couldn’t get up the next morning. He always seemed to know when it was time to give her a break and put a stop to her training at just the right moment.

“What do you look like?” she blurted out, shrinking back into the tree she’d taken cover under when he looked her way with a sharp gaze. “I just- I’ve never seen your face. I was wondering-”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t take off my mask.”

Slamming her bento box down onto her legs she released a low-pitched groan from the back of her throat. “I know nothing about you!”

“You know enough,” he assured her without even a second hesitation. “My face won’t tell you anything about who I am. Only my actions can do that.”

Her annoyance only grew with his words. Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, which would have bothered her back when she was still in Konoha, but because she knew he was right and it did nothing to quell her curiosity. 

“You know, for someone who’s so calm during her training you’re rather impatient every other moment of the day,” he commented, a cheerful note in his voice. “It reminds me of an old friend.”

“An old friend?” she leaned in closer. “You have friends?”

“Rude.”

“Am I wrong to ask?” she huffed. “I’ve never seen you talk to anyone except Rin-Sensei, and I wouldn’t exactly call the two of you ‘friends’”

“We’re great friends,” he insisted. “I show up to help her out once in a while, and she doesn’t try to murder me. That’s a great friendship.”

“See, saying things like that doesn’t make me think you have friends. In fact, it makes me think the exact opposite.” sitting back a little, she picked up one of the Onigiri and took a bite out of it. 

“Right, and what friends do you have exactly?” he fired back, earning himself the best attempt she could muster at reproducing the ‘death glare’ she’d seen Rin-Sensei fire at some of the other Shinobi in Konoha.

Swallowing her food, she answered his taunt. “I have friends.”

“I’m sure you do,” he waved his hand, motioning for her to continue. “Like?”

“Ino,” she answered with confidence.

“And?”

“And…” thinking back to all the people she knew in Konoha, she cringed. Ino was the only person she could really call a ‘friend’, and even that was still a bit rocky since they’d only just started making up after Sakura had broken their friendship. She knew a lot of people, and she was as friendly as she could be with most of them, but calling them ‘friends’ was a bit of a stretch. 

Even Naruto couldn’t really be called her friend. He was her teammate, and although she’d wanted nothing to do with him when they were first placed into team seven together she had come to care for him and support him.

They just couldn’t be called ‘friends’ quite yet. 

“So what I’m gathering from this conversation is that you have about as many friends as I do, which isn’t a lot,” another glare, but this one had zero effect. Her Sensei simply continued speaking as if she wasn’t trying to make him combust into flames with her gaze. “And you don’t want to know anything about me.”

“Wait, no-” she panicked. The one opportunity she’d been presented with to learn something about her Sensei and she’d already messed it up. How typically, her. 

“So you do want to know?” she kept her mouth shut and simply nodded, too afraid of screwing up again to risk speaking. “Well, alright. What do you want to know? And no-” he held up a finger when she opened her mouth to speak. “You cannot ask about what I look like.”

Thinking quickly, Sakura grinned when another question came to mind. “Who are they?”

“Who?”

“The person I remind you of,” she reminded him. “Your old friend.”

“Oh,” chuckling, he settled back into his spot. “That might be a bit of of long story.”

“I have time,” she insisted. “And even if you have to pause to continue training, you can keep telling me after. If that’s alright.”

She didn’t want to seem desperate, but she was interested. It was only a small bit of her Sensei’s life and it might be the only thing she ever got to hear so she had to listen carefully. Anything he said could be a tidbit about himself, and she wanted to learn as much about him as possible. Even if she had to piece it all together through tidbits in the rare story he agreed to tell her.

“Well, when I was a kid I was part of a team, just like you,” his voice grew softer as he spoke, fondness slowly seeping into his words until Sakura could practically hear him smiling. “There was me, Our Kunoichi, and our other teammate who was a bit of a hardhead. On the outside, I’d say he seems more like Naruto.”

Sakura cringed at that. “Please tell me you don’t think I’m like Naruto.”

“From what I’ve seen, no,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “I just mean that anyone who is looking at the two from an outside perspective would say they’re similar. In reality, I’d say he’s more similar to you.”

“How?” she probed. 

“He had a bit of an anger problem, always had to make his opinion known, could never stand being wrong-”

With each thing he said Sakura felt a weight crushing down on her shoulders. Was that really what he thought of her? What did others think of her? Was she the hothead who couldn’t handle being wrong?

A hand came down on top of her head, calling her attention back to her Sensei who was now kneeling in front of her with soft, kind black eyes staring at her. “Relax,” he insisted. “That’s just the start.”

“So…what else was he like?”

“Endlessly kind,” he continued. “He never liked admitting when he was wrong, but he knew when it was time for him to step back and let someone else lead. He had dreams of being seen and respected during a time when everyone’s attention was on the class ‘genius’ instead of him. He also had his moments of incredible intelligence, and was surprisingly talented but ignored because he wasn’t the strongest or the best in any particular category.”

A smile stretched across Sakura’s face.

“Was he a good friend?”

“At times,” her Sensei confirmed. “When it really mattered.”

Satisfied with that answer, she reached out and Poked her Sensei right in the middle of his mask. “Continue,” she insisted. “What was your first training session like? Your first mission? Oh, did your Sensei do that stupid bell test with you just like Rin-Sensei did with us?”

Laughing, he settled back into his spot once again. “So many questions,” he chided her, though his words held no hint of disapproval or annoyance. “Alright, let’s start with our first training session. That was rather interesting.”

Sitting up, Sakura prepared to hang onto every word her Sensei said.

Not just so she could learn something about him, but because she was genuinely interested now. If he saw a bit of his old friend in her she wanted to know as much as she could, so she could do her best to emulate all of the better qualities.

[everythingharsh]

10 mins ago, I woke to nap totally scared and disappointed.

Scared coz In my dream I almost got shot by an enemy nation's soilder.

And disappointed coz I woke up by my ringing phone and broke that awesome dream world.

So the dream:

******

Our family shifted to this new location,

which felt like sanhok from PUBG, or you may say forest from vietnam, very dense, green, full of tall plants, casting full shadow within forest during daytime, also dad goes to work in this desert like place which felt like that deserty area from GTA SanAndreas, somewhere near that oil rig, yeah so not so high hopes in my dream for architectural marvelling unlike that girl from inception,

ugh ugh so, in my dream just like my present, I'm living with my family in this forest type area and there next to our home is forest which actually share border to this enemy nation which somehow lacks fencing coz people both side hardly clash and live friendly, however heavy soilder deployment by enemy side and surprisingly lack of any force by our side!

So one day this news is broken that the enemy state tested a new weapon, sorry I can't explain which type of weapon was that, but news agency covered that the first tests took place across the border near my home, so me being me, slowly I got that spirit of arnold or vietnami soilders guirella tactics , and tried to spy on this enemy nation's newly created 'mujassama' or their beautiful creation,💣

surprisingly i successfully saw what they created, and was very proud on myself, returning to my home in full confidence, my heart skipped a fcking beat,I almost shat my pants

I HEARD THE BUSHES, I REPEAT I HEARD THE GODDAMN BUSHES MOVE, AND I WAS LIKE AINT NO WAY IM GONNA DIE LIKE THAT AMERICAN SOILDER IN VIETNAM BITCH😭😭

SOMEONES GONNA DROP ME IN THAT BOOBY TRAP BITCH, MY WHOLE BODY GONNA DROP BLOOD LIKE FOUNTAIN THAT TOM IN TOM AND JERRY BITCH SOMEONE GONNA POKE MY BALLS WITH THIS SHARP LONG STICK

So I was shit scared and running in this full speed like naruto dodging all these obstacles in vietnam, finally got an breath of relief as I got near my home, but all of sudden

I HEARD THOSE BUSHES MOVE AGAIN😭

Saw my mom nearby doing morning yoga, got near her and saw that soldiers shadow aiming pistol at me I screamed for help with my full capacity and my mom was scared too, turns out that enemy soldier is none other than

THAT ONE MOTHERFCUKER KID FROM MY VILLAGE PLAYING WITH THIS WATER PISTOL PRANKING ADULTS GIVING EM VIETNAM FLASHBACKS😭

I lost my huge smelly shit somewhere near those bushes, and was really angry on that kid.

God's grace upon me, and that kid is lucky too that I don't own a gun, otherwise may have drained my whole AR's magazine on that kid and escape to enemy nation bidding farewell to my family, who the faq expect future from this country if sons like these are raised and cultivated in this country anyway,

and ain't no way I'm gonna leave him now🔫

His age is somewhat 10-12 so grown up enough to get his ass spanked hot red

I am back in home screaming again in anger, told everything to my mom and she almost lost her cool too but calmed my down saying he's one of our relatives kid,yea I remember him, with that runny fcking nose,

BUT I GOT 0 COOL, I OPENED MY WINDOW AND CHALLENGED THAT KID FOR 1V1 TILL DEATH

Kids granny saw this too, I know her, a nice old lady, and she, actually was not surprised by my action as her DAUGHTER A WHORE too😭😭

And her expectations from his grandson are not so high😒

So I just bang'd open'd my door I ran to this kid, and daym,

CHANGE OF HEART

his nooosey👃 all runny 😭

I got sympathy

And adviced him not to do this again

And

MY PHONE IS Ringing

I WOKE UP DISAPPOINTED THAT IM UNABLE TO PROVIDED INTEL ABOUT THAT WEAPON TO MY STATE, GODDAMIT I HATE THAT WHORE AUNTS SON, FCUKING WASTED SOO MUCH OF MY PRECIOUS DREAM TIME I COULD HAVE SPENT WORKING ON MY AIM OF DEVELOPING A WEAPON WHICH WILL HELP MY STATE COMMIT HUGE GENOCIDE ON MY ENEMY STATE

******

Ufff... Thank God, this is rare i remember dream like that, my first time posting my dream, hope I do it again too.

[melodicwitchlight]

gaara of the desert : 1/2.

ch: 1.

gaara walked through the sand village with his siblings temari and kankuro. they were his only friends. he saw a group of three children that looked about his age and a jounin throwing a ball to each other close by. a spiky blond haired boy threw the ball to a pink haired girl. she made to catch the ball but it flew over her head.

naruto threw the ball too high and it went right over sakura’s head, just missing it by a few inches. “sorry, sakura-chan!” naruto said, scratching his head embarrassedly. “baka!” she said, “that almost hit my head!”

“sorry, “said naruto. she sighed “I guess it’s alright,”

“thanks, sakura-chan!” naruto said cheerfully. he turned to kakashi- sensei who was reading icha icha Paradise. “kakashi, shouldn’t we be training now? i am going to become stronger and be hokage one day!”

“baka,” sasuke said, leaning casually against the wall. “we just finished training and someone as weak as you is never going to become hokage.” “what did you say, sasuke-teme!” naruto shouted. sasuke lifted an eyebrow. “I said you are too weak to ever become hokage.” naruto and sasuke kept bickering. 

sakura sighed during their argument. “kakashi-sensei, I’ll get the ball.” “okay,” kakashi said not looking up from his book.

ch: 2.

kankuro blinked. a ball rolled towards gaara. he bent down and slowly picked it up. a pink haired girl suddenly ran towards gaara. “s-sorry,” she said sounding exhausted. “are you from this village?” gaara asked.

the girl, sakura, looked surprised for a moment then said, “oh, no I’m from konoha village.” she waved her hands to a jounin, a spiky haired boy and a boy leaning against a wall nearby. “they are also from Konoha Village.”

she was a bit puzzled at this strange boy. “can I please have my ball back?”

“uh…sure,” gaara said. suddenly a kid ran past him. he looked around and saw the kid running away from two other kids. they were obviously playing tag. then the kid fell over the grey cold concrete. he scraped his knee and elbows. the kids ran to their friend. he stood up on wobbly legs and examined his elbow. a trickle of blood ran across his elbow.

the blood dripped to the ground. oh no, temari thought. “um...” she said. she quickly grabbed the ball from gaara and tossed it to the girl. “gaara, let’s go,” but it was too late. gaara already had a glazed look over his eyes.

ch: 3.

naruto and sasuke finished their ten minute argument. naruto turned to sakura. “kakashi-sensei, where did sakura go? we were going to a C mission!” he raised his eyes from icha icha paradise. “she went to get the ball. although,” she frowned slightly. “she is taking long.”

he looked around the vast area to find sakura. Then suddenly he saw her. “sakura-channn!” he yelled happily running towards her. Then he saw a horrified look on her face looking over his shoulder at something.

gaara felt the shukaku, the monster inside him awaken. shukaku said, hurry! kill him before he gets away!  he felt this was the reason to prove his existence. To kill. the boy stood up on wobbly legs and walked away with his friends; he made a trickle of sand go towards the boy. sand wrapped itself around his leg, and he fell once more on the concrete. he waved his hand and sand covered the boy. “desert coffin!” he hissed. naruto turned around to see what sakura was looking at. he was shocked to see sand covering a kid and a boy with dark circles under his eyes and say “desert coffin!”

[justicedefender]

Today is the day of the Area 51 raid. They can’t stop us all.

Check it out on @redbubble at https://tinyurl.com/y47d4kz3 

[pinkhairedlily]

#SasuSakuPracticePrompt : Stray Cat

Meow.

Ah, so this is where Sasuke sneaks off to after their trainings with Kakashi. The sight of him surrounded with kittens make Sakura giggle, throwing away her position.

He glares at her with a pout and flaming cheeks. She runs to his side and takes the kibble jar from his hands.

“I can help you feed them, Sasuke-kun!” But the cats have already scampered off.

“Great, you drove them away,” he grumbles.

She doesn’t know what happened, but she’s suddenly overcome with sneezes and teary eyes.

“And you’re allergic to them too.”

---

A week after Sasuke deserted Konoha, Sakura went back to that area with a heavy heart. She shakes the kibble jar, and the colony of tabby, calico, and torties tentatively crawl out from their hiding spots. She tries to pet a white heterochromia cat, but it ends up hissing at her.

Where the cries start with the allergies and end with her own heartbreak, she doesn’t know. In between her heaves and sneezes, Sakura blurts out, “Why do you need to push me away too?”

---

She’s now a medic nin, and Naruto just came back from his training with Jiraiya. It’s a good day so far until she sees the heterochromia cat has its blue eye scratched across. There’s a sharp intake of breath before she dives in to get the cat behind the cart. He bites her hand in retaliation but Sakura squishes him against her chest.

She quickly heals him as the bite starts to bleed. The eye cannot be saved but the wound closes up quickly. “Lucky for you, white pirate. I can heal the two of us now.”

She lets go of him after the quick operation and heals her wound next.

When she returned to feed them the next day, the white pirate rubbed against her legs.

“Yeah, I miss him too.”

---

“Sakura?”

She turns at the sound of his voice; he’s out and about a week after his hospital discharge. Shock registers in his face as he sees the cat house in the middle of the street. In his lone hand is a kibble jar.

“Ah, I just finished feeding them though.” She fishes out a tissue from her pocket and sneezes on it. “Sorry about that.”

The white pirate is the first to walk towards him, tail erect with slight swaying, and rubs a welcome on his leg. The other cats soon follow and he’s suddenly surrounded with meows and purrs.

“They’ve been waiting for you.”

Sasuke gives the giggling (and sneezing) Sakura a baffling look. “But I’ve been gone for so long. How can they remember me?”

Her giggles subside into a soft smile as he bends down to pet the waiting furry heads. “Simple. I always told them about you.”

for @kjt1124 🌸🍅 thank you so much for buying me coffee. i really appreciate it. i hope you always have good days ahead of you. thank youuuu 🥺

[optimusveddieprime]

Remember when life was good and we were watching people Naruto run across the desert cause they were gonna rescue all the aliens from Area 51? Yeah, I miss it too.

[sun-summoning]

part ii | part iii | part iv

after speaking to kido, sakura rushes home. when she calms down from the rage that nearly had her crush his throat, sakura can admit that she doesn’t really think this is him. he knew a lot about her for someone that was supposed to have been locked up all this time, but he seemed genuinely surprised to hear that sarada had been taken, if not disappointed. he fit the profile of what shikamaru and kakashi thought -- that someone wanted sarada for her eyes -- but sakura can’t stop the nagging feeling that somehow this runs deeper.

back in her apartment, megumi’s body is right where she left it, and sakura feels awful for having moved so mechanically. megumi was an orphan, but she was still someone’s little girl. ashamed, sakura lays a sheet over her and swears she’ll do more later.

she heads to her bedroom and begins her work. alone, she summons one of the cats she’d made a contract with shortly after her marriage. the black cat is sleek and holds himself confidently. he’s always been an efficient one, quick to do as she needs and be competent about it. he regards sakura with a cock of his head.

“sarada’s been taken.”

“your daughter.”

“yes.” 

the cat nods. “i shall inform the clowder. if anyone spots her, i will let you know.”

“thank you.” sakura pauses, self-conscious for needing to rely on everybody else for this part. “if you...if any of you are able to come into contact with sasuke-kun, can you pease let him know too?”

“of course.”

“thank you.” sakura promises to provide the usual exchange at a later time and the cat disappears with a puff of smoke. she heads to her bedroom and she begins to pack in silence. 

her movements are as meticulous as they are automatic, done just so she’s ready to leave the moment she knows where she needs to go. her medkit is stocked. her bag has scrolls, weapons, supplies, and sarada’s favourite toy. she changes out of her days clothes and into the leggings and turtleneck of a uniform she hasn’t worn in years. her cloak is in the front closet. she needs to change her boots. she’ll put on the boots now. she leaves the armour on her bed to don later. right now, they only hinder her movements. she goes to the drawer where her mask hides in plain sight among other trinkets and knick knacks, and on the dresser she notices a flower.

sakura stills as she takes in the detail she must have missed in her earlier haste. she considers the simple glass vase and the single red flower sitting in it. its petals curl at the ends and some are even missing. 

this flower has travelled and as sakura considers what it is, she knows it’s travelled far. 

-

konoha became unbearable by the time she tuned twenty. it's so petty and selfish and she'd never say it aloud, but she hated seeing everyone else so happy. she's happy too -- has so many reasons to be -- but she couldn’t help the nagging jealousy she feels when ino declined her invitations because she was going to see sai or when naruto prioritized her almost always only to head home to hinata.

she wanted to be someone's too. she wanted to be their focus and heart and home, but sakura already knew who her someone was and knew that on some level she was his too, so all she needs to do right now is wait.

most of the time, sakura wasn’t bitter. being apart from him wasn't unfamiliar, nor the steadfastness, nor the hope that one day this will pay off one day, nor the self reminders that what she felt was irrelevant as long as sasuke knew and was comforted by the fact that she would always love him.

to suppress her frustrations rather than confront them, sakura worked. she worked tirelessly and relentlessly and by nineteen, they'd named her the greatest medical ninja konoha has ever seen for her accomplishments, ideas, and innovations.

this took her to suna at twenty and to ame at twenty-one to help establish their own clinics.

“i have a gift for you,” ino told her before she left. 

sakura expected a ribbon or a piece of jewellery or that new book on poisons she mentioned she was interested in. instead, ino handed her a bag. its contents shift, imbalanced, and inside sakura finds a potted plant. 

“a flower?”

“not just any flower, you ungrateful bitch.” ino pointed at her accusingly and then at the plant. its petals are a bright red with darker flecks at their base. “i made it.”

“you made it?”

“yes. you know me, interrogating and mind-reading by day, splicing plants together and making my own by night.”

“that’s sad.”

“fuck you. you’re sad.”

sakura laughed and ino laughed too but it got a bit sad because ino probably definitely knew that sakura was sad. “anyway,” ino continued, “we’ll call it the sakuino flower--”

“how creative.”

“--and i expect you to keep it alive through all of your travels.”

sakura frowned at ino, wondering if ino understood that a potted plant had no place in her travels, but ino didn’t seem to care. moreover, this particular thing didn’t seem to have the ability to survive in the desert climate she was going to be living in for the next six months. 

when sakura expressed as much, ino waved the matter off. “deal with it,” she said, giving sakura one last hug. “you’re one of the brightest minds to come out of this village. you’ll figure something out.”

-

its common name is the fire poppy, having originated from the fire country but somehow managing to survive in the deserts of wind country as well. the flower is know for its vibrant red petals, eye-catching and jarring across the barren brown it’s normally found in. sakura had to play with the original plant’s physiology when she first moved to ensure it could survive the alternate climate. in her spare time, when she wasn’t working with the kids, she deigned to work with her plant, eventually working on cloning the original. at some point she’d given one to a nurse she worked with who much admired the first, and gaara asked if he could try planting them in his garden. from there, the spores began to spread.

“why the fire poppy?”

was this someone from suna?

sakura considers the obvious motivation of revenge, but who would even want that? there were people who didn’t appreciate her friendship with kankuro or any of his siblings. perhaps an apprentice of chiyo’s who blamed sakura for not saving her when she gave her life for gaara’s. worse, perhaps someone that once worked sasori who resented her for his demise. or maybe someone she, sadly, can’t even remember. a patient she lost during the war whose family hated her.

sakura truly cannot pinpoint a motivation for this, much less a person. 

especially a person that would understand the meaning of this flower for her. 

ino would never give her this flower. ino would have scoffed at it and created her own. sarada couldn’t have picked it today. and sasuke certainly couldn’t have left it for her.

someone was in her apartment. someone brought it here. 

was it here before?

sakura considers the poppy and forces herself to keep calm. stay logical, she demands. stay smart. was the poppy there before? no, she thinks at first. she would have seen it. she’s certain she would have seen it.

but, she can accept, it’s possible she might have missed it. sarada was taken. her babysitter was murdered. it wouldn’t be surprising if sakura missed it. but sakura doesn’t miss things. right?

“don’t gaslight yourself,” she orders. 

no, she knows. the flower was not there before, meaning in between her going to kakashi, going to the prison, and then running back home, whoever took her daughter came back.

or worse, there was a team involved and one was with her child and another came back for her. 

sakura curses, wishing she’d put on her black ops armour earlier, because whoever brought the flower here is now making their presence known. she senses two people before she sees them and is unsurprised to find sudden flares of strength.

the bedroom is small and they’re in a building. she needs to take this outside, but where? there’s too much risk for others getting hurt in the crossfire. that’s why this was supposed to stay quiet. that’s why this will stay quiet.

they step out of the shadows and sakura assesses them quickly. one male, one female, both fairly young based on stature and development, maybe early twenties at the oldest. they’ll have agility on her, but they won’t have her experience. 

the man holds a chokuto. good. an advantage. sakura is excellent at fighting against such a weapon. if they’re foolish enough to use her husband’s favourite sort of blade, perhaps they didn’t do enough research on her. perhaps they were hired? but if they were unprepared, then were they really here to kill her? 

are they here to distract her?

that thought fills sakura with dread. is someone trying to keep her busy so she can’t get to sarada on time?

the woman shifts, one leg sliding to the side as she raises her hands. she holds no weapons, therefore she is the weapon. sakura knows all about that. she’ll need to be careful with this one. but she still has a holster on her thigh. it’s thinner that the usual styles. maybe a couple kunai, but more likely a set of sebon. this one is smart then. she’ll know precisely where she needs to hit sakura to stop her.

“haruno sakura,” the man greets with a short nod.

so it is her fault.

if this was about sasuke, about the uchiha, they would know her married name. this is about her, and for that sakura feels worse. her baby was taken and why? just to hurt sakura before killing her? sarada was who knows where with surely no one that could be good and all just to hurt sakura?

sakura snarls, furious in a way only a mother could be, and she feels the chakra pulsing around her fists.

“where is my daughter?”

their masks hide any expressions. they remain at ease in the face of her rage, shockingly unafraid of this woman that can level mountains. 

good, sakura thinks. let them be brave. let them come at her like fools. 

she runs through the bedroom door to get to the living room where there’s at least more space to maneuver. the man leaps and brings his blade down upon her, but sakura manages to shift to the side. careful to not be forced into a corner, she spins out of his range and into the open middle until the woman runs past her partner and takes sakura on hand-to-hand.

she matches sakura’s punches and kicks blow for blow. she’s good, sakura thinks nervously. and she’s fast. she’s small, maybe half a head shorter than sakura, so she puts her weight behind every quick jab. sakura gives most of her attention to the woman, but keeps a wary on eye on the man who sheathes his chokuto.

what as he planning?

it takes that one moment for the woman to catch her unaware. 

sakura chokes on her breath as the woman thrusts a senbon into her shoulder. the shock from that slows her down enough so she can lodge in a second.

“shit,” sakura curses as she stumbles back. she rips the senbon out, but she feels her left arm begin to go numb from the struck pressure point. “what did you do--”

sakura’s eyes widen she she feels something foreign begin to course through her. she considers the senbon, dark with her blood and likely something else. there’s a metallic smell that isn’t from the weapon, and sakura knows she’s been poisoned.

however, her body doesn’t bother to fight it. 

sakura watches her opponents, trying to understand how she’s been poisoned with something she’s immune to and just what poison this might be. she’s immune to everything in konoha’s own collection, as well as the ones she shares with shizune.

which poison is this?

does that matter?

sakura scowls at the two people involved in her daughter’s kidnapping and reminds herself that she can take them on one-handed just fine. she pulls her right hand into a fist and charges. the man is closest, so she lunges at him with a chakra-laden punch that sends him barreling into the wall. 

she grabs the front of his shirt and as she pulls him forward, his mask falls away to reveal green eyes, cold and lifeless, and a black diamond under his left eye that makes her uneasy.

sakura stares at the man, confused, because she knows this face.

she knows him.

her fear and pain and worry makes it hard to focus, but knows him. 

focus.

finally, it clicks. 

“isao?”

she thinks she might have seen something like recognition in his eyes. that doesn’t long though. she left herself open, and his partner stabs her shoulder. sakura releases isao with a cry before the woman punches her in the back of the head and everything goes dark.

-

the sun is up when sakura begins to stir. she hears the birds chirping and people outside going about their days. but the buzz of the television is missing, as are the small thuds of sarada’s steps. where is sarada? sakura wonders hazily, lazily, not quite understanding yet.

where is sarada?

her eyes widen and she sits up so quickly her stomach rolls.

“careful.” tsunade comes into view, steadying sakura and checking her for any problems. “you’re still healing.”

she’s in her own bed. she’s not at the hospital. she got knocked out and the assassins got away. she should’ve done something to track them. dammit. was she so arrogant she didn’t have a failsafe in place for if she didn’t simply beat them? sakura punches the bed, earning a disapproving frown from shizune on her other side.

“there was poison in your system.” 

“it was one of ours,” sakura admits warily. 

“yes. there are very few people with access to those, much less this particular one.”

the one that the assassin used was meant to render a victim paralyzed but still able to feel. it was a dreadful thing, meant only for the worst of interrogations. or, more accurately, for torture. sakura concocted it in her darkest moments at fourteen under shizune’s watchful eye. since then, while they’ve both had small handfuls of keen students, they’ve probably shared poisons from their personal roster with only five people at most.

for this particular poison, sakura knows only two people they showed it to, and only one of those was a student of sakura’s.

“how did you find me?”

tsunade rolls her eyes. “shizune sent you off to a prison from kakashi’s office. i figured i’d have to check on you shortly after. and it’s a good thing i did, stupid girl.”

“thank you.”

“don’t thank me. i’m scolding on you.”

“did they find anything useful?”

“no one’s been able to contact your husband.”

“right.”

“and they’re still under the impression that this has to do with the uchiha blood.” 

“they would be,” sakura mutters, too tired and in too good company to be anything but blunt.

shizune sighs. “do you know who came after you last night?” the flower is still where she left it on the dresser. shizune follows her gaze to the fire poppy, and all knowing with plants as well, shizune determines its origins. “how did that get here?”

“i think it was to taunt me.” sakura grimaces. “you were right.”

“about?”

“i think this is my fault.”

shizune’s eyes widen and quickly soften with sympathy. “none of this your fault,” she reminds sakura. 

tsunade crosses her arms. “enemies of yours then?”

“no.” sakura looks sad. “people i once loved.”

-

tbc

[gigiree]

With enough strength to be gentle

AO3  First chapter. Previous chapter here. Sasuhina month day 20: thunderous as a storm, gentle as a dew drop

“A-are you ready?”

He barely hears her soft tones over the thundering rain rattling his new screen door so hard, it clatters against the wood frame with a staccato groan that’s a bit eerie.

The lighting in his living room is dim and flickering, dozens of candles placed haphazardly on any flat surface because no one ever thought to update electrical grid in the old Uchiha district. That can be credited to the village Utilities’ Department lack of desire to brave the rumored ghosts, the actually decrepit utilities, and the surly last Uchiha who haunts the grounds. They’re alone in that sentiment, but it’s an annoyance that tugs at long buried hurts Sasuke would never admit to.

So he finds himself looking into her earnest eyes, her round face made even softer by the wavering warmth, hesitation clinging firmly to the corner of her pretty mouth and nervousness settled on her scrunched nose.

(And perhaps if he’d known better, he would’ve known that the flush in her cheeks was the fault of a fluttering attraction, but he should be forgiven for missing it, considering the circumstances.)

He smiles, a gentle, crooked quirk of his mouth that’s easy to miss in the dark, but Hinata sees more than most. He knows this small thing to be enough for her to get the message.

He closes his heavy lids and tilts his head forward. 

Her chilled fingers brush back his bangs ever so carefully, he might’ve imagined her touch for all the contact she makes. He bites back the anxiety that raises the hairs on the back of his neck. The absolute contradiction to every instinct that’s ever kept him alive in his time as a shinobi, baring his vulnerable parts to someone who could easily stop his heart with a touch.

(Though he’s already admitted as much that she does with just a look, anyway.)

The cold in her touch makes its way to his temples, soothing the lingering headache that stays despite the herbal concoctions he’s choked down.

“I’m going to start now.”

“Hn.” There’s a heavy silence on her end, her tension threading to her hands so obviously, he opens his eyes suddenly, only to realize her face is mere inches from his own. It takes everything in him not to want to grasp her worried, little face and pull her into his orbit. His lips on hers, her hair tickling the edges of his jaw-

“S-Sasuke-san.”

“Don’t apologize. I did this to myself remember. Now get it off me.” He closes his eyes again. 

Hinata makes a small sound of embarrassment or resolve, he’s not quite sure.

He wants to make a joke at her expense, but the words are caught on his throat as a sudden lance of pain bores into the space behind his eyes, and it feels like he’s being unraveled.

----

Pain. Exquisitely thin and sharp. It laces through every part of him, every thought, as the dull headache he’d been having is seemingly taken apart, bit by bit until he can distinguish each sensation in it as a singular experience.

The roiling of his guts, chills wracking his strong frame, the tang of blood in his mouth, the muscles of his eyes straining in extremis, sight torn between his two doujutsu, the Rinnegan pushing the source of pain and the Sharingan flaring to see past all of it. He's in danger of losing it, but he remembers her to keep hold on why he'd done this. Prior to this, he would've thought the memories to tether himself to consciousness would've been those involving Naruto, Sakura, Itachi and his family. 

Fighting for the end of the world. Fighting for a dream inherited, fighting, endless fighting but...That had all ended hadn't it? He'd been lost in a peace everyone else had seemed to fall naturally into. He'd thought he'd been alone in that. But she was just as lost, if not more so. And she'd crashed into him, pulled forward by her own powerful gravity that she never seem to quite accept. And he'd fallen right into her orbit, hadn't he? 

What a blind, hopeless fool he'd been. But he's changed. No longer a lodestone sinking into the earth. She'd forced him to move. He doesn't know if he'll ever be done thanking her for that.

So he does this for her. 

He remembers stolen moments between the meandering she's done, little crossings where they'd gotten to know one another. He remembers her shining eyes, glinting with mischief when stealing from him, narrowing with suspicion whenever he'd pop by just to see her surprise so deliciously obvious, scrunching with happiness when he'd sit across from her during a Yakiniku gathering. 

Shared glances through a crowd. 

A strand of long, dark hair curling on his couch throw pillow. A bracelet with moonlight hanging off a silver chain, echoing the paleness of her gaze. Fireworks. Thin wires barely keeping an emaciated form tied to this life.

Distance to zero and his lips on hers, the cloying smell of red bean on her breath. 

Stolen moments and kept secrets, just the both of them spinning lost and lonely underneath an old umbrella. Silly, lost, stupidly good, stubborn, misguided, scared, brave, pretty, sweet, strong, gentle, ever growing...Hinata.

His fingers claw at his hair, at his skin, begging for reprieve and then-

A singular touch to his forehead clears it all, like the first drop of rain in a drought riddled desert. The relief ripples across from the dull pressure centered on his botched seal, numbing, washing away the hurt and the loose ends of unraveled thoughts.

For a moment, it feels like Itachi’s poking his forehead again and there’s thunder and rain outside sounding almost too loud and resonant in his sensitive ears.

But when he opens his eyes, confusion and anger and irritation all sweep through him so incredibly visceral, he can’t help but fall to instinct and react. 

It’s all too easy to slap the Hyuuga’s pathetically tiny hand away from his face, push her soft body to the wooden floor and hold a kunai to her slim, pale neck, his heavy form over hers as his Sharingan flares red, sending harsh shadows lancing across her terrified face. “You. Hyuuga. What did you to me? Did Naruto put you up to this?”

The venom coils deep in his words, dangerous and ready to strike. But as far as snakes go, he’s a generous one. Giving chances isn’t something people like him do often. He wracks his brain, but his thoughts are sluggish, dreadful. The last thing he remembers is a tearful Sakura, a pathetic attempt on his life with a poison kunai, Kakashi’s smug remarks, and Naruto’s livid expression reflected in the grimy water below them.

He supposes they managed to catch him after all. But it makes no sense. He’s interrupted by the sound of sniffling.

If there’s one thing Sasuke Uchiha has never been able to deal with, it’s the crying of those weaker than him. They always irritated him. Too loud. To messy. It made him want to run and fight someone worthy the instant they started. She doesn’t make a sound really. Just quiet, trembling breaths.

Her dark brows knit together so tightly, he thinks they’ll never come apart. She was always too weak. A ghost trailing at the back of their class, watching Naruto with flushed cheeks and her cowardice bending her spine in half.

He’s never had pity for people like her. People who can’t help themselves.

Yet when her tears spill over her thick, dark lashes and roll down those ridiculously round cheeks, disappearing into the thick carpet of her hair trailing on the wooden floor, there’s an ache somewhere in him that frustrates him more than anything.

And it sharpens into something excruciating that he can’t quite place when she silently mouths-

“I’m sorry.”

[canmom]

Animation Night 61: One Piece

So first up... ty everyone who tuned in for Heaven’s Feel last week! That was a blast: the fights were everything I hoped for and the whole chuuni traumagirl story arc was genuinely moving and compelling. Can’t really recommend it as a first Fate necessarily, since it skims over the early parts of the story portrayed already in Unlimited Blade Works, but I reckon those movies deserve all their esteem.

(Also, apologies for lack of Toku Tuesday this week. Plans fell apart and I wasn’t up to running one. We’ll be back next week.)

This week on Animation Night, I’m going to take up a long standing request from my friend Elaine [scattermoon], who is a big fan of a certain very long running manga series called One Piece. (I realise that among my friends that is a rather divisive choice! But hey, let’s give it a shot.)

One Piece began serialisation in Weekly Shōnen Jump in 1997, the creation of a young assistant mangaka called Eiichiro Oda. About the young Oda I can mostly find production info: he joined the company in 1992 on the strength of his manga Wanted!, then developed his drawing skills working under mangakas like Shinobu Kaitani on Suizan Police Gang and Masaya Tokuhiro on Jungle King Tar-chan and Mizu no Tomodachi Kappaman. In 1996 he wrote two piratical one-shot stories called Romance Dawn, the prototype for One Piece; then after three rejections, Jump agreed to run his series One Piece.

And One Piece got big. I don’t know exactly when it became a hit, but it soon became recognised as one of Jump’s “Big Three” series alongside Naruto and Bleach... and then outgrew even them to set the record for best-selling manga, overtaking even industry-defining series like Dragon Ball. Unusually for mangaka, Oda became extremely rich - yet he has continued to work singlemindedly on One Piece, taking almost no breaks outside of a number of health scares.

So what’s the formula that made it so beloved to its many many, fans?

Overall the structure for One Piece is a travel story. The broad-scale framing plot is that our MC, Monkey D. Luffy, and the “Straw Hat Pirates” (麦わらの一味, Mugiwara no Ichimi) who sail with him, are hoping to find a treasure called the “One Piece”, which would make Luffy the “King of the Pirates”. Along the way, they get caught up in the conflicts of a long series of islands, each one relatively self-contained as an arc. In the meantime, the metaplot concerns an unfolding pirate war between the four most powerful pirates (the Four Emperors 四皇 yonkō), opposed to the authority of the World Government.

So if at first glance it may sound like standard shōnen stuff - individuals with different superpowers, contesting to become the strongest. But it’s clearly finding much broader appeal than that. I asked Elaine a bit about this, and she reckoned its main strength is the variety: like many successful, long-running TV series (for example, Star Trek), the premise is so flexible that it allows Oda to explore an enormous variety of affects and registers, all anchored in familiarity with the core cast. Some examples are an underwater arc exploring xenophobia and generational prejudice among fish people, a thriller arc where the characters flee poison clouds in a sinister human experimentation lab, and a political intrigue arc about a rich man attempting to stage a coup in a desert kingdom.

Beyond that, it distinguishes itself mostly in execution: a big part of the appeal is the implication of a vast, fleshed-out world painted across thousands of issues. This is built on a distinctive visual foundation: Oda can design a wildly varied cast and give them all distinctive characterisation. (Even if he is, apparently not nearly so good at designing women... 🙄)

One other small tidbit Elaine gave me was that, contra the shōnen designation and Jump’s usual audience, by far the biggest demographic of One Piece readers is women aged 30-40.

Inevitably a series as big as One Piece would see a high-profile anime adaptation, and that landed in the hands of the venerable Toei Animation, one of the oldest anime companies. They picked up the series in 1999, and it has run in a variety of timeslots - shifting from Wednesday to the prime Saturday Evening slot before narrowly avoiding cancellation to settle in the Sunday Morning slot with other long-running shows like Dragon Ball Super. This is relevant insofar as, well...

Let’s talk a little about anime production! A subject I know a lot more about than the plot of One Piece...

Most anime nowadays are produced according to a model called the Production Committee, originating in high-profile films like Akira. In this system, various capital blocs - toy companies, music companies, broadcasters etc. - pool funds in return for a comparable stake in the profit or loss made by the series, mitigating risks but also reducing the potential for profit. The studio producing the actual animation (the primary contractor) may have a stake in the committee, but often they are only paid a single, fixed fee.

The production committee system has come under a lot of fire lately as one of the barriers in the way of livable wages for animators (e.g. this rather disjointed video by the Animator Dormitory charity): a successful series may not profit the animators at all since the fixed fee is very low and, if the studio’s not on the production committee, they don’t even have the opportunity to give the animators residuals (like in Hollywood) and often face severe budget shortfalls despite often paying sub-poverty piece rates.

Per this video, One Piece is run on a somewhat older sponsorship model with three sponsors making joint decisions: Toei themselves, the manga publisher Shueisha, and the broadcasting network Fuji TV. (I’m not exactly sure how this differs from the more standard production committee, but I guess I just gotta take the guy’s word for it...)

In some ways this is good: One Piece is pretty much guaranteed a large audience share just because of the license so the risk is minimal, and thanks to such productions, Toei is able to pay its animators some of the best monthly salaries in the industry. (The fact that they do is thanks to the union which struggled into existence in the early days of the studio, back when it was Toei Dōga.) But this arrangement comes with some restrictions: the Saturday morning timeslot comes with a very high pace of production of 48 episodes per year, drawing a lot of complaints of extremely slow pacing. Toei are not free to ‘go seasonal’ to spend more time per episode, because the other sponsors are making a tidy profit and see no reason to change for artistic reasons.

The exact history of the anime seems to have gone through a few eras. As Elaine described it, the first 80 episodes (1999-2001) adapt the first major arc of the manga at a reasonal pace; from that point until about 2008, the series interspersed ‘filler’ arcs between manga adaptations. From that point, they adopted a slower-paced model where, rather than write filler, they would adopt only one chapter of the manga per episode. Fans were not especially happy at the slow pace, or a widely perceived drop in animation quality.

These criticisms were apparently answered with a change in direction for the most recent “Wano” arc, which is where One Piece clips started appearing on the radar of sakuga fans - such as this cut by Katsumi Ishizuka which currently stands as the top rated from One Piece on the booru, or this one by webgen star Bahi JD. These have all the hallmarks of modern fight sakuga: heavy Yutapon influence, lots of flashy impact frames, lines dissolving, the camera and characters flying about. You can check out more of this Wano thing here on the booru. (I get the impression something quite similar has happened to the Naruto sequels.)

Meanwhile, on the manga side, Oda has apparently been attempting to condense more events into each chapter of the manga to better suit the pace of the adaptation - alluding to a fight which the animators can then elaborate on. So perhaps the pacing troubles are coming to an end... the manga, in any case, remains astoundingly popular, untouchable by anything in Jump.

Anyway! That is, as best as I understand it, the history of the One Piece TV show. However... we’re not watching that tonight. Instead, Elaine has picked out a handful of One Piece films...

Much like the TV series, the One Piece films have gone through various eras. The earliest films tended to be purely original stories, often diverging significantly from the source material; a second era saw higher-budget, condensed retellings of arcs already covered by the TV series; the third, current era of films consists of side stories overseen (and one time written) by Oda, but not directly part of the main story. Elaine’s given me one film rec from each era to give us a little historical core of the series

From the first era, we have Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island (2005), which is notably the second film directed by Mamoru Hosoda [previously on Animation Night #15 and #47] after Digimon: The Movie. We can already see some elements of his style, like the kagenashii (unshaded) animation. The film sees the Straw Hat Pirates drawn into a series of trials on an unfamiliar resort island, but inevitably more sinister things are afoot - hinging on a flower that resurrects facsimiles of the dead.

The second era brings us the Fate-worthy title Episode of Chopper Plus: Bloom in the Winter, Miracle Sakura (2008), a retelling of the ‘Drum’ arc focusing on the character Tony Tony Chopper who is a kind of anthro reindeer?? The Straw Hats show up on a winter island, seeking medical treatment, and seem to get drawn into some kind of furry banditry situation where they’re attacked by big rabbits. It sounds wild and I’m very curious to see how that all comes together.

Last, we have One Piece Film: Gold (2016), from the current side-story-oriented era. In this one, the Straw hats find themselves on a kind of giant casino ship, where a conflict over cheating at dice draws them into a battle for control over the whole ship.

So. One Piece! I’ve never really dipped my toe in, just aware it’s a thing people love - but I’m absolutely curious to peer into this whole enormous psychic whirlpool that has been churning at the centre of the manga/anime industry for most of my lifetime. Fingers crossed we’ll find something delightful in here that appeals even to the One Piece skeptic. And time permitting, I’ll also throw in an episode from that Wano arc for the sakubutas among us to roll around in.

Animation Night 61 is intended to start at about 7PM UK time, 1h40m from this post, over at twitch.tv/canmom. In the meantime, I’m going to be challenging myself to animate a flashy punch in about an hour, so drop by Twitch if that sounds fun! See you there, either way~

[roraewrites]

day ten: colors of you and me // collabed with @ss-tyytyy​ ♥ had a lot of fun writing this with her and definitely something we’re considering continuing!

                                         - - -

"I'm tellin' ya, Teme! I see it!”

Sasuke placed his drink on the counter, dark eyes turning towards his friend that sat on the stool next to him. He could see droplets of ramen broth lining his whiskered cheeks, running down and around his jaw before he brought his sleeve up to wipe the mess from his face. Sasuke rolled his eyes away and back to his own bowl of ramen.

It was their usual Wednesday night: meeting for ramen in Naruto’s favorite restaurant, eating their fill of noodles and usually drinking sake, but tonight, Sasuke didn’t feel like drinking. He didn’t want to feel the burning alcohol crawling down his throat, filling his stomach with an indescribable warmth, or hearing his best friend talk his ear off about this stupid color he had mentioned before.

Purple? Is that what he called it? Regardless, it sounded ridiculous to Sasuke. Some farfetched, fairy tale story and he didn’t have the patience to deal with it today. Naruto didn’t take the hint though.

“It’s such a pretty color. I never thought I’d see a color in my life, but this! I can’t wait to meet my soulmate, whoever she is… Hell, whoever they are!” He corrected and Sasuke merely grunted his response. “The first time I saw it was this weekend while I was hiking with Lee. I barely caught a glance of them in the trees, but there they were, flowers colored in such a soft and light color. I thought I was going crazy or losing my mind!”

He sat back in his chair now, arms crossed over his broad chest while his dark locks fell over his face. Instead of toning out his friend though, he opted to listen, his curiosity piqued by what the blond idiot was saying.

“Not only did I see it outdoors, but I can see it right now. That bottle over there has liquid in it that’s a purple hue. I didn’t believe it either until I visited Kakashi-sensei and told him about it!” Sasuke’s eyes glanced over at Naruto once more, grey and black painting such a splotched picture that jealousy piqued at his chest a bit. 

He wondered what it would be like to see colors other than these shades they were cursed with for eternity — that he was cursed with for eternity.

The Uchiha leaned forward in his seat now as Naruto blathered on, talking about how light and how pretty the color was, about how he wanted to see it more often and that he would search for it more often. At that, he decided to call it a night. He couldn’t handle it anymore, and from his day at work, he really just wanted to sleep now.

“I’m leaving,” he interrupted as he pushed his stool away from the bar and stood. The disbelief in his friend’s eyes glistened in the pale light of the room, but Sasuke didn’t bother taking a second glance. He knew the puppy-dog look that was awaiting his dark eyes. 

“Teme! Don’t be rude! I wasn’t done—”

He toned out his hearing, toned out the blistering shriek of the blond the moment he exited the building. The crisp night air welcomed him, a crescent sliver hanging in the everlasting sky above as he took long strides towards his home. Cars lined the streets, people meandering down the sidewalks; it was a busy night for it being the middle of the week, but Sasuke merely paced himself on the way home.

It was odd, he thought to himself, how everyone could live in such a dark and mysterious world. Some people have the ability to see a single color, while other are doomed to the voids of blacks and greys; it was one thing he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around, the thought of a soulmate entering one’s life one day, and they’re seeing their world in a different light the next. He scoffed as he opened the gate, feet padding down the stone path to his apartment complex. 

Just as he reached the main building, he thought he caught a glimpse of light from the corner of his eye, a tree with blooming petals but it was nothing more than the lightest shade in his visible palette. Upon opening the door and allowing the warm air to consume him, he made way for the stairs, skipping a step to the top floor and finally entering the comfort of his home.

Color was a mere concept. Nothing more, nothing less. 

. . .

Bzzzt.

A single eye opened, hair covering his aristocratic features as he glanced at the phone on his nightstand. 

Bzzzt.

He blinked, his hand reaching for the device only to find the name and ridiculous photo set to accompany it showing up on the screen. 

“What.” His voice was groggy, sleep-ridden and deep before Naruto’s ecstatic voice sounded through the ear pierce.

“You’re not awake yet?!”

He blinked and rolled over on his back, the back of his hand pushing the long strands of dark hair from his face, the side of his hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he stifled a yawn.

“I am now.”

Light filtered through the crack in his curtains, hardly lighting his surroundings as he listened to whatever his friend was going on about. This time, it was about his morning workout and what it consisted of, then slowly asking Sasuke to hang out after work. He merely grumbled to himself as he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed, feet touching down to the hardwood and lifting his heavy body from the bed. 

It was a Naruto-like gesture, but he scratched at the back of his neck as he wandered towards the window, pulling the curtains open and allowing the light to reveal his room. It was almost immediate, but his heart hitched in his chest, air stuck in his lungs as his eyes widened at the sight outside of his window.

His phone dropped to the floor, nearly shattering the screen as it slid across the hardwood and away from where he stood. From his spot at the window, Sasuke could hear Naruto’s shouts of concern, but he was far more entranced with the view from his window.

Sasuke knew he hadn’t just seen what he thought was white blooming buds, but the color of cherry blossoms in full swing — they were everything but white.

They weren’t black, nor grey or white. They were colored in such a soft and delicate color, a color he had never seen before. It made his tongue go stiff in his mouth, his cheeks hot with a fury he never knew existed, all because that made up myth had come true. 

He was seeing color for the very first time.

“Sasuke! Teme! Where are you?!”

The Uchiha blinked and stepped away from the window, hand reaching for the deserted phone on the floor before bringing it to his ear.

“Shut up, Dobe. I’m fine, dropped my phone. I gotta go.”

He didn’t leave room for questions or confrontation; his mind was whirling like a carousel, trying to find a grip as he rushed back to the window to look at his color once more. There were no words to describe the beauty behind it, but a new door in his life had opened, and whether or not he was ready to take that step was up to him — he had a soulmate, and it was now up to him to find them. 

- - -

Sakura was a young woman with an esoteric imagination. Ever since she was a small girl, her parents had teased her for her ability to turn nothing into everything. Growing up, Sakura Haruno was never bored or lonely. Through her eyes, even though the world was what many people considered dull and lifeless due to its monotonous color scheme. Unless you were one of the lucky ones who happened upon your soulmate, the only colors you could see were the everyday blacks and greys. Sakura was one of those not fortunate enough to stumble upon hers quite yet, but she was a dreamer.

Over the years, the many novels she had the pleasure of reading only helped to keep her dreaming—hoping—seeking. There were those who didn’t believe in soulmates, those who found the whole aspect of it tedious and exasperating, but Sakura knew it was only because they had yet to find their soulmate. Once they did, they would change their minds. The world would become so much more beautiful.

Then they would be like her.

To see the world around not for what it was, but for what it could be.

Sakura was a believer. Her parents were soulmates after all, granting her aspiration that she, too, would one day find that person. The longing she felt for her soulmate only grew when one of her dearest friends experienced color for the first time. Hinata was on the timid and quiet side, and had been rendered speechless and shocked when it first happened. Sakura just so happened to be with her. The two met for coffee and a breakfast to go at a cafe they frequented when it happened.

It was an otherwise ordinary day, an early Wednesday morning. The cafe was filled with other patrons there for their morning coffees, some rushing more than others. When Sakura first began visiting the cafe it was still new, a one-owner place with little business but it hadn’t taken long for word to spread of their wonderful service and excellent food. Their baristas were knowledgeable, friendly and all four that were employed there had quickly recognized her, memorized her order and she needed to do no more than greet and thank them for their work in the mornings.

When she had time, she took the same table so long as it was open. Sometimes she was with Hinata, sometimes Ino, sometimes other friends, or even by herself. The atmosphere was always the same though. Light and warm, soft, serene music was a constant background noise, often that of mellow harmonics coming from nothing more than a piano. It had a soothing effect on her, even on the busier days when boisterous laughter and enlivened chatter threatened to drown it out.

Today, Sakura was feeling content and pleased. She and Hinata hadn’t spoken much on their walk. They’d finally taken their seats, Hinata having her usual breakfast tea and croissant while Sakura had her coffee and a blueberry muffin. So many scents surrounded her, filling her nostrils with each breath she inhaled. The freshly brewed coffee was her favorite amongst it all, but all the warm, baked goods were pleasant to smell as well.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, at least until Hinata’s face morphed into a ghastly look. Sakura’s delicate brows arched at noticing the change in her friends expression, seeing the way she fidgeted slightly in her chair, the way she anxiously tucked her straight and long, dark hair behind her ear, the worry of her lips as her pale eyes looked upon a small banner wrapped around the tray on the edge of the table by the window. It was stocked with napkins, condiments and sweeteners. Sakura saw nothing that should’ve caused such a look to come to her friend’s face.

“Hinata? What’s the matter?” She questioned carefully, her dainty hands cradling her warm mug while her eyes flickered from Hinata to the tray and then back to her again.

There was no response at first, Hinata couldn’t form any words though her mouth did open time and time again as if she wanted to explain. Sakura was a patient woman, but there was a lingering concern for her friend that had her pressing the matter.

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yes, its—” Hinata’s voice broke as if she couldn’t possibly elucidate. Sakura sipped her coffee, waiting and eventually, Hinata pointed at the illustrated oranges on the banner. “The oranges…” she turned her gaze to Sakura, blinking incredulously at her friend. “They’re not grey.”

“Not grey?” Sakura would’ve shouted in her shock, but her voice came out as barely a whisper. 

This was it. Even more proof that soulmates did exist. There was an immediate excitement for her friend, knowing that she had come across her destined person somewhere and hadn’t realized it—but there was also this nagging envious feeling that Sakura couldn’t shake. 

When would her time come? 

. . .

Thursday began just like any other day. Again, Sakura had a full twelve hour shift ahead of her. The constant beeping of her alarm was what roused her, promptly at six that morning. After silencing it, Sakura stretched on her bed, arms raised high, body twisting from side to side until she felt fully awake and ready to get her day started. She always had her alarm set to wake her a couple hours before her shift; she never liked to rush in the mornings. 

Once she slipped out of bed, Sakura padded over to the sliding glass doors that led to her balcony. Her morning was never started properly if she didn’t first walk out to breathe in the fresh morning air while taking a peek at her hummingbird feeder. The small birds and their rapidly flapping wings had always fascinated her. Sakura read stories of the males being beautiful, multicolored birds. When she watched them, Sakura pictured them looking more vibrant than they did from her eyes. 

Today, Sakura found that those tales were factual. 

It happened as soon as she stepped close to the banister and peered over at the hanging feeder filled halfway with sweet nectar that kept the hummingbirds coming back to visit. A small smile was adorning her features, lighting her eyes and accentuating her soft attributes. It was quick to evolve into a startled look—one similar to that of her friend’s the day before.

While she had several hummingbirds that visited regularly, the first she spotted today. The small bird was one she recognized right away, but it wasn’t it’s everyday deep grey any longer. Instead, it was a fathomless, rich color so unspeakably alluring. The sight of him stole her breath and had her heart stuttered to a screeching halt. With a silent gasp, Sakura raised her trembling hands to cover her mouth, tears pricking at her eyes as she stared upon the little bird’s beauty.

Yesterday, she’d been so envious of her friend seeing a color for the first time, and now it was happening to her. This meant that sometime the day before, Sakura had come across the person destined for her and like most others, was completely oblivious. Dozens of faces flitted through her mind, but of course she had no hope of knowing whom she crossed paths with could’ve been the one. There were too many. 

It mattered not though. The only importance there was for now, was that this color had presented itself to her and it had a meaningful connection to her soulmate and regardless of how difficult it may be, Sakura was going to find them.

“Pink.”

His dark eyes scanned the screen of his phone, memorizing the name and the color he had been seeing more and more lately. 

It was so soft, a gentle and alluring color that sped the steady beat of his heart in his chest; he wanted so badly to know just who he was looking for, but with no hope, he locked his phone and stood from his desk. 

It was another long and painful day at work. It was like any other day — show up to work, type his reports, hand them to his manager, access any extra work that needed to be done, pack up and leave. Yet today, he was now seeing that single color and it was driving his mind wild knowing he wouldn’t find his answers being stuck at work. He sighed as he clocked out, grabbed his belongings and headed towards the door.

With his work behind him, he departed from the building and began his walk towards the bus stop. The blond wanted to spend more time with him, especially after Sasuke exploited that he could now see a single color, and without any let up or relief, the Uchiha was now on his way towards Naruto’s.

As he walked, hands deep in his pockets, he noticed the sky overhead and how beautiful it was in its prime. Pinks mixed with the white of the clouds, softly blurring into the grey that stretched across the horizon. Not only was this color in the sky, but it also appeared among the flowers and blooming trees — even buildings had that single color plastered all over their posters and menus, painted in pink and advertising sweets, drinks and desserts. 

It made the corner of his lip twitch as he finally arrived at the bus stop, noting his perfect timing as the vehicle pulled up. As per usual, the people before him started to pile on, paying their fee and then taking their seat and he followed. Once on board, he slipped towards the back of the bus, noting the heat that encased his body as he slid into the cushioned seat and let his head rest against the back. 

His eyes closed, sleep beckoning his mind but he knew better than to let his mind slip on public transport. It was when he felt something hard slam into his arm, abruptly moving him and sending a wave of chills through his body that he opened his eyes and glared at the person next to him.

It was there that he found a head full of pink hair, a button nose, and large, doe-like eyes staring back at him. Though it wasn’t the pink hair that caused his breath to hitch in his chest, but the color of her eyes that lured in every one of his senses. 

It was such a lively color, glowing with energy and happiness and it drew in his undivided attention before he tore away his eyes and merely turned his back to her. He wasn’t sure if he heard her speak to him or not, but he closed his eyes as tight as he could, trying to discard the presence of the girl sitting next to him.

Sasuke wasn’t sure what had just come over him, but when he felt the bus start to roll, he could hardly feel his heart in his chest as it rattled his entire body with every beat.

. . .

It hadn’t been the best of days for Sakura. The several hours she spent at the hospital moved at a slower speed than she was used to. It was also a particularly busy day and for once, the young woman was disappointed in herself to find that her mind wasn’t fully on her work. The fault belonged entirely to that color she had begun seeing — blue. 

Ever since Sakura had taken the liberty of looking it up and putting a name with the color — all thanks to an online chart specifically for those subjected to the vividness of pigmentation. Blue was everywhere she looked it seemed, but the different shades of it had come to her gradually. What started from the deep hues coloring the hummingbird developed into even darker shades amongst different fabrics or posters. Then lighter shades appeared, ranging from flowers growing upon the bushes outside of her home to the sky overhead.

That had amazed her the most.

To think that the soft grey sky was actually such a warm blue and not always the same blue either. It changed all throughout the day and now when she thought back to reading of the wondrous colors of the sky, Sakura found herself dreaming of even more colors. This had caused her to become absentminded and diverted during her work. It was so bad, in fact, that when the surgeon supervising her witnessed her unusual behavior, she had ordered Sakura to go home.

That was the only reason she had stepped foot on the bus at such an early hour, amidst the nine-to-five workers’ commute home when the hustle and bustle was the worst. Still, she found herself getting lost in each shade of blue her eyes spotted; being distracted enough to bump into someone and have them give her a shove which forced her into another body.

The sudden and unexpected push was not what started her into going wide-eyed and breathless — it was the sight of the smooth and soft dress shirt she had pressed into, the color one that was deeper and yet lighter at the same time in comparison to the blue she had already accustomed herself to. Her eyes raised to the face of the man she’d disturbed only to find the most beautiful porcelain face she’d ever seen before.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks warm with embarrassment at the proximity and the aghast look the beautiful man was giving her. 

He didn’t look at her long though before he turned his back to her, making her pout. It gave her time to admire the new color gracing her eyes, but there was just something about this man drawing her in — as if her heart was seeking him out. His hair was somehow tamed and yet messy at the same time, the back in disarray while his bangs framed his gorgeous face perfectly. There was a blue tint to his hair also, captivating her. She couldn’t just ignore the presence of someone so positively alluring.

“Excuse me,” she began, voice cracking slightly and making her blush deepen. Sakura cleared her throat and gently tugged on the man’s shirt when he ignored her. Her lips pursed and she turned her attention to her phone, needing to put a name to the color of his shirt.

Purple.

To be specific, lavender.

“Your shirt is purple… it suits you.” Sakura knew well that most of the population couldn’t see colors and if she had a choice, she would like to know little details like that; even if she couldn’t tell the difference herself. Maybe he could see though and he already knew. Regardless, she didn’t regret telling him.

. . .

Sasuke felt his eyes widen at her comment, completely taken away by what she just said. He always chose whatever looked best with the darker color of jeans he would pick out and the fact that she just mentioned his shirt being a color that was neither grey, white nor black — who knew he was choosing purple of all colors. Instead of keeping his back to the girl, he turned in his seat, allowing his eyes to shift to the woman sitting next to him.

His dark eyes reeled in the color of her hair; such a soft color that it piqued his curiosity and made him wonder if everyone had the color of her hair or if it was only her. He cleared his throat slightly, trying to find something to say.

“Your hair is pink,” he stated in a low voice, sliding down in his seat slightly so he could be a little closer to eye level with her. He wanted her to look at him again, see that light shade that he saw when she sat down by him and looked at him. He wasn’t sure what color he saw then, but it was interesting.

That color and pink reminded him of something natural, a happiness emitting from them mixing together and just when he wanted to turn away once more and enjoy the peace and quiet, he did exactly what she did and pulled his phone out. 

After finding the color — green — he glanced back at her once more; different shades of green colored the world around him and not just her eyes. He never realized how many things contained that color, albeit the grass, trees, plants, clothes that people wore and buildings painted in the color. He noticed how much pink and green went together, and not just on the woman sitting next to him. 

“And your eyes are green.” He breathed out softly with a click of his tongue.

“Green,” she breathed, those beautiful eyes lighting up in excitement. “Are they pretty? What is green like?”

Sasuke exhaled slowly, feeling his body give way to whatever emotion fluttered through his chest. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but the sound of her soft voice sent shivers down his spine almost instantly. He readjusted in his seat once more, allowing himself to face her and really get a look at the woman next to him.

He studied her eyes once more, noticing just how deep the shade of green the tops of her irises actually were, slowly dissolving into such a soft green that it made his tongue go numb. Words sat on his lips, begging to be said and when he held his breath for a second too long, everything hitched in his chest.

“It almost resembles warmth and living,” he clicked with his tongue before looking away for a brief moment. He wasn’t sure if the bus was hot, but his cheeks and ears felt entirely too hot for his liking.

“Warmth and living…” she sounded completely taken with the idea, feeling amazed and excited at once. 

The girl didn’t seem to understand the meaning of personal space — leaning closer against him and clasping his hand with both of hers. 

“Wow. That truly sounds amazing. Yours are… they’re black. But, not like the everyday black. I mean, they’re like this deep black. Like I’m staring into an endless abyss of emotion. Glossy… and not only black but these lighter speckles are there… almost grey, only different than grey. They’re really pretty.”

His breath hitched in his throat at the sudden contact, making his cheeks and ears grow hotter with each passing second. When he turned to look at her, he noticed the slight pink that dusted her cheeks and not only that, but a different color started coming into play. 

It was soft, like the color of her hair only it painted her skin and added another color to his palette. He felt unusual, something strange stirring in his chest the longer he looked at her before breathing out.

Sasuke then looked away, his eyes focusing on objects passing by as the bus continued moving. He wasn’t used to this type of treatment—being close to anyone, especially some random stranger he met on public transport but there was something about her that was drawing him in and he didn’t want to escape that feeling.

He felt comfortable, safe, a sense of relief washing over him as he let his body relax, the tension slowly fading when he looked back at her.

“And yes,” he said softly, trying to force the words out. “Your eyes are pretty.” The corner of his lip turned up into a smirk, hoping she wouldn’t notice that she actually made him do something other than scowl, but it was clear to him that she was inquisitive and paid attention.

The color adorning her face darkened to a shade more vibrant than pink and for a fleeting moment, she averted her eyes. Those dainty hands didn’t release his, but instead held on a little tighter. When her eyes met his once more, she said, “My name is Sakura. What’s yours?”

“Sasuke.” He said in a voice that wasn’t as cold as it usually was. Staring into her eyes was like seeing the world in a different, much more appealing light and although he had just met this girl, he didn’t want to leave her right away.

Unfortunately, the bus came to a halt, his stop for getting off and going to Naruto’s. He sighed, his hand tightening around her smaller hand in his. “This is my stop,” he said, dark eyes flicking back to her to catch sight of her beautiful color palette one last time.

“Oh.” There was a bit of disappointment that flashed in her eyes, but she still smiled at him. “Well, Sasuke-kun, I have a feeling we’ll see each other again soon.”

He clicked his tongue, a softer smile pulling at his lips before releasing her hand and standing from his seat. 

“I do too.”

He slid between her and the seats in front of them, striding down the aisle with his heart beating full force, skipping down the steps and finally letting go of the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. When he glanced back, his eyes searched for her; his beacon of color, a light that he didn’t want to go out and when he found her, his eyes connected with hers and a world of color consumed him whole. 

It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, knowing full well that he had just met the person he’d been searching for and while the promise of myth still danced around in his head, he knew it to be true now. 

He smirked at her as the bus began to pull away, letting her go along with it because he knew that wouldn’t be their one and only meeting — definitely not the last.

[silverfootstepswrites]

Amaryllis | Chapter 24

<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>

++++

Karui tapped the pipe against the edge of the table. Ash fluttered down as the blue smoke rose up. She placed the tip in her mouth, leaning over to peek at the envelope.

“What is it, Grandfather?” she wondered, tilting her head to read the words.

Ebizo stroked his long beard.

“She is very much like her grandmother,” Ebizo murmured. He chuckled as he handed the letter over to Karui.

Karui’s fist rose to cover her mouth as she read through the contents of the letter. And then a laugh spurted out of her too.

“Oh, I wish I could see the expression on Prince Baki’s face. How terrible this is,” Karui sighed. She lowered the letter into her lap. “What will you do, Grandfather?”

Ebizo clucked his tongue. He held his hand out. With a guilty smile, Karui returned his pipe.

“The situation is actually quite straightforward. She’s made a reasonable request. And it will cost me very little to indulge her,” he mused.

“I thought she was just a military woman. I’m surprised to see such a cunning scheme from her,” Karui commented, looking down at the letter again. She blinked when Ebizo tapped his knuckles against the top of her head.

“Silly child. Do you think that branch of the family has survived so long in hostile lands simply by waving a sword around?” he scolded her. Karui rubbed her head, even though it hadn’t hurt at all. She blinked.

“I supposed not,” Karui said.

++++

Konohamaru swiveled his head around to check the alley behind him for what felt like the hundredth time. It hadn’t been easy to pin down a meeting with this person. And he wasn’t even certain if this was the person he needed to talk to.

Pulling his hood a little closer to his face, he ducked into the seedy little bar deep in the heart of the slums. Wary eyes fell on him when the door creaked. They followed him as he made his way to the bartender, an older woman with an eyepatch.

“Beat it if you don’t have any money, kid. This isn’t a charity,” the bartender grumbled.

But her visible eye widened when he pushed a golden coin across the counter towards her.

“I’d like to take some singing lessons,” he whispered. The bartender glared at him as she lifted the coin to her mouth. She bit down hard before she scrutinized the coin. And then she jerked her head for him to follow. Konohamaru looked around. When he couldn’t find a place to enter, he ducked under the bar to follow the woman past the wooden barrels of alcohol. To a small door in the back.

The bartender knocked in a peculiar pattern. There was a pause. And then a voice came from within.

“What?”

“You got a guest.”

“…Let the kid in.”

The bartender muttered something about being “full of herself”. She said nothing to Konohamaru as she hobbled her way back to the bar.

Konohamaru stared at the worn doorknob. He closed his hand around it and pushed. The door opened with little noise.

“You found the place alright. Not bad.”

It was just a dusty little room filled with barrels and shelves. There was a bed wedged into the corner, as if someone had squeezed it in last-minute. The woman sat at the foot of the bed. A lute case lay open behind her.

“You’re… the court musician,” Konohamaru said. But it was more of a question than anything.

Tenten leaned back on her palm, smiling. “Yeah.”

Konohamaru frowned. “How do I know I can trust you?”

It had been difficult to even find the musician in the first place. He knew there were messengers who ran for the General when she was in the capital. It had taken every moment of his spare time for a week to find one of them. And once he located the messenger, it had taken almost all of the money the General had given him to convince the man to point him in the direction of this tiny bar that didn’t even have a sign out front.

“A good question. And how do I know I can trust you, kid?” she wondered in return.

“I… I want to help the General,” he stated, a little helplessly. Because he had nothing else to support him. No documents, not that he could read anyway. No seal or ring to prove that he served someone more powerful than him.

Tenten tilted her head to the side as she appraised him.

“I’ve seen you tending the General’s horse. You really like her, don’t you?” she observed.

Konohamaru nodded.

“I owe the General. She picked me up when I was just some urchin who could sing. I’m not dumb enough to bite the hand that feeds,” Tenten then assured him. And then she sat up straight.

“So. What is this message you need to get to her?”

Konohamaru hesitated. And then he spoke. “Prince Naruto came to me in secret. He paid me to send word to Lieutenant General Inuzuka. I heard the Lieutenant General talk about how someone is shooting down… messenger birds? I don’t know why. But it has to do with the prince. And then he said he needed to send word quickly.”

Tenten scratched her arm as she took that in. “Well. Sounds like he’s going to tell the General, doesn’t it? Why come all the way here?” And then her hand stilled when she met Konohamaru’s eyes. He stared at her.

Tenten laughed. “Oh. You already know not to trust these people.” She tilted her head from side to side as she considered things. And then she got to her feet.

“Things are getting stale in the capital anyway. I might as well pay her a visit,” she decided.

Konohamaru fumbled when she suddenly reached inside her pocket and flicked him something. It was a silver coin.

“Thanks for the tip. But don’t give away this kind of stuff for free anymore. If you’ve got something I don’t have, you can profit in some way,” she advised him.

Tenten rode out of the city at dawn the next day. She joined up with a few merchants making their way up to Whitewave. She offered them a little coin to let her ride on the back of one of their wagons. She played songs to help pass the time. And by the time they arrived at the port city, the merchants were sad to see her go.

The city of Whitewave was run by Countess Inuzuka, an outspoken supporter of the General. The strong tie between the two women was reflected in their trade relations. The city was filled with exotic fruits and teas found nowhere else in the kingdom. It only took a day or so to find cheap passage to the Southern Tea Isle. In exchange, all Tenten had to do was play a few songs here and there to keep morale of the sailors up.

When Tenten arrived on the island, storm clouds hovered over the trees. She kept her head down and booked a room in one of the island’s more run-down taverns called The Sailor’s Rest. It wasn’t empty, but it also wasn’t crowded. As she climbed the stairs up to her room, Tenten noticed a few men occupying a table in the back. One of them eyed her in a sharp way, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. She made a note to herself not to linger too long here.

It almost didn’t surprise her when she realized that the General wasn’t here. It wasn’t like her to be quiet for so long. And she usually visited the mainland for a few months every year.

Tenten leaned against the bar in the Sailor’s Rest as she considered her options.

It was quite natural for most people to relay information to Admiral Haruno. The General’s cousin was well-known as her close confidante. Those who wished to curry favor with the General usually started with the Admiral first. But when she asked around, she found that the Admiral was quite busy. And with the General absent, there was no guarantee that any news would reach her quickly.

She tapped her fingers once. The bartender slid a tankard over to her. She nodded in his direction.

The man who had stared at her earlier was nowhere in sight. But at the same table was a huge, blue man. He offered her a smile, nodding before he turned his attention elsewhere. Tenten’s eyes narrowed when, a few minutes later, he made his way over to her.

“I’m not interested,” she stated before he could set his drink down.

The large man appraised her. Laughed.

“No offense. You’re an attractive woman. But that’s not it,” he replied. And then he offered his free hand.

Tenten stared at it. She considered swatting it away. She decided to shake it.

“Kisame Hoshigaki, handsome marauder and outlaw,” he introduced himself. And then he thought before he added, “Been working as the General’s security these days.”

She toyed with the idea of giving him a fake name. But she decided against it.

“Tenten.”

Leaning his elbow on the bar, Kisame jerked his chin toward her.

“You looking for her?” he questioned.

Tenten studied the man for a long moment. He was huge. The hand on his tankard made it look like a child’s cup. And that hand could easily bash her skull in. But then she had also noticed the way people who passed him greeted him with “Howzit, Big Blue” and “Hey there, brother”. Those sorts of greetings didn’t roll off the tongue overnight.

“Maybe,” Tenten responded.

She flinched back a little when the mercenary reached for his belt. He froze. Paused to give a pointed look, as if to reassure her. And then he rummaged around in the pouches on his belt until he produced a small gold ring. He could squeeze it onto his finger if he had to. But it was annoying to have anything on his hands, so he just carried it around on a gold chain instead. He handed the ring to her, keeping the chain looped around a couple of his fingers.

Tenten scrutinized the desert rose engraved into the gold.

“Never thought I’d see the day the General hired a mercenary,” she murmured. She handed the ring back to him.

Kisame flashed his pointy teeth.

“People keep saying that. It’s starting to hurt my feelings a little,” he replied.

Tenten glanced around the tavern. She tapped the bar a few times.

“Not here,” she declared. “Maybe the palace.”

Kisame snorted. “No.” He read the expression on her face and smiled again. “I know you want the palace because you want witnesses in case I try to kill you. But it’s not exactly the best place to exchange secrets right now,” he explained.

Tenten’s forehead wrinkled.

“The docks at dawn? The fishermen will be out then. Too far to eavesdrop. But close enough to see if either of us tries to stab the other,” Kisame suggested instead. He pointed at his chest, at the exact spot where Tenten had hidden a knife. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking down at herself. It was a well-concealed weapon. This man was even more dangerous than he appeared if he could figure that out just from a short conversation like this one.

Tenten’s eyes narrowed as she held the mercenary’s gaze.

When she gave him a stiff nod, Kisame looked satisfied. He told the bartender to get her another drink on his tab before he walked away. Tenten left the drink untouched, slipping out of the tavern as quietly as possible.

At dawn, Tenten was already at the docks, concealed in the shadows of one of the stalls that had closed for the night. She could see the huge mercenary standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot. There was another man standing some distance away. Just in case they were planning an ambush, she kicked at a rock, sending it skittering across the path. Both men turned toward the sound. She was too far away to hear, but she could see Kisame turn toward the other man to say something. The second man departed with a wave of his hand. She couldn’t tell whether the wave was for Kisame or for her.

“The General mentioned she had a musician wandering around the capital. That’s you?” he said in greeting when she finally joined him. She stood a good distance away, her arms folded across her chest.

“Where is she?” Tenten asked.

Kisame sighed. “If she didn’t tell you, I sure as hell won’t.”

Tenten clicked her tongue. She couldn’t help but approve a little. She tried not to show it in her face.

“Can you read?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Kisame answered.

She handed a note over to him. “Stableboy at Whiteriver Keep got wind of some strange happenings. Kid felt worried enough to come find me.”

Kisame unfolded the paper and read through the contents. His expression didn’t change. And when he finished reading, he tore up the paper and tossed it into the ocean.

“Lots of strangeness going around lately,” he grumbled.

Tenten stole a glance at the mercenary. At least he wasn’t asking stupid questions. She noticed a pebble at her feet. She nudged it into the water.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Tenten sniffed, unfolding and refolding her arms. “Don’t think so. I saw them bring more birds in. Lots of them. So seems like Little Namikaze isn’t lying about that, at least.”

Kisame paused mid-stretch as he took that in. Frowning, he turned to look at Tenten. She stared right back. Arching an eyebrow.

“They brought in more birds,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Crows from the north. Doves from the east. They do doves here don’t they?”

“So if they had to send more doves to Whiteriver, folks here would know…” mused Kisame, trying to put the pieces together.

Tenten didn’t quite follow his line of thinking. “Someone has to sign off. So… whoever’s in charge while the General’s gone, I guess.”

Kisame’s eyes narrowed. “Then there’s no way they wouldn’t notice something like this unless they were signing off with their eyes closed.”

Tenten’s arms dropped.

“Are you saying that-”

“She knows. The aunt knows and she hasn’t said anything,” Kisame declared, glaring out at the ocean now. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his hand across his forehead. “General’s not going to take this news well.”

Tenten’s eyes widened. “Lieutenant General Inuzuka said he would write to the Admiral about this,” she recalled.

“He won’t pass it to the General. That kid is right in his mother’s pocket. If the aunt isn’t telling her, then the cousin won’t either,” Kisame pointed out. Pressing his knuckles to his mouth, he continued staring out at the water. The sun was beginning to peer over the horizon now. The bottom of the black sky began to glow orange and red.

Tenten jolted a little when the mercenary’s eyes suddenly fell on her.

“This conversation didn’t happen,” he warned her.

Tenten smirked. “The General pays me too well for me to remember any of her secrets,” she assured him. But Kisame didn’t smile.

“I hope you forget this quick then.”

Tenten folded her arms again. “You really like her too, huh?” She glanced over him, noted the scars on his wrists.

“I’ve seen those before on slaves from the south. They had you in the fighting pits?” she observed.

Kisame rubbed his wrists. “Not for long,” he assured her. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to break through chains when you really want to bash someone’s head in.”

They stood there, staring out at the water for another moment.

++++

“I’m confused. So we’re not going home?” Kankuro wondered, hugging a pillow to his chest as he sat down. On the other side of the room, Gaara leaned against the lid of one of the trunks they had been filling with various clothes and souvenirs they had gathered during their time in the Viper’s Fang. All the gifts provided by Prince Baki had been placed in a separate pile. Kankuro kicked at some of the objects in that pile whenever he walked past.

“It all depends. But no. That’s not in the plan for now,” answered Sakura, leaning on her hand. She sorted through the letters she had spent the morning writing. Each one sealed with her ring. Temari had gone out to mail the first batch a little while ago. She would be back to send the others soon. Normally this was a task left for servants. But Sakura wanted to be sure that these letters made it to their destination quickly.

“What’s the atmosphere like in the palace, Meno?” asked Sakura.

Meno paused while folding one of Sakura’s robes for travel.

“Prince Baki is in meetings with his advisors much of the time. Consort Hoki interrogated the servants to identify which concubines aided Concubine Deba when she destroyed your property, General,” Meno reported.

“Any word on their punishment?”

“No, General. For now, Concubine Deba had the servants and guards confiscate their possessions to be appraised,” added Meno.

“For what?” Kankuro scoffed, stretching out onto his back and staring up at the gilded ceiling. “They destroyed something priceless. That’s like trying to fill up a bottomless pit with gold.”

“I suppose it’s more of a gesture. Shijima’s trying to show that she’s taking this situation seriously,” Sakura guessed. And then she smiled a little. “She really is a smart girl. It’s a shame that that’s gone unrecognized for so long in this place.”

Since Sakura was “furious”, it made no sense for Shijima to wander in and out of her quarters anymore. And while she wasn’t lonely with her cousins beside her, Sakura worried about Shijima. With the huge upset in the power structure of the harem, all Shijima would have to do is seize control. With Prince Baki in a foul mood, not many of the concubines would be brave enough to try any underhanded tactics for a little while. Still, Sakura knew how daunting it could be to do something like this. She hoped that the few allies Shijima had made in the harem were serving her well now.

As Shijima seized control of the harem from within, Sakura’s letters spread to all the cities with relationships to the Haruno family. Of course Princess Mei would be one of the first to receive word of the great offense Prince Baki and his wives had struck against her. Sakura was aware that Mei’s relationship with Baki was all about business. When forced to choose between Baki and the Haruno family, Mei was certain to choose the Haruno’s. It wasn’t just about distant family relations. It was about profit as well. Baki controlled some trade routes to the east. But the Haruno family’s access to gold and marble, as well as their vast network of connections to other cities in the Arids made them a better investment.

An added bonus was that Shijima had expressed discomfort at the relationship between Mei and Baki. Mei had mentioned once that she had a son by Baki, which ensured that he would never raise a hand against her city. After all, what kind of father would try to harm his own son? Mei was adamant that she had no other interest in the man. But if it bothered Shijima, then this was one way to solve the problem.

The other cities would face a similar dilemma. If the Haruno family was cutting ties with the Viper’s Fang, what would they do?

The Haruno family had spent generations marrying its children into the various cities surrounding them. And because blood must always be honored, there would be very few in their right mind who would choose to turn their back on a Haruno.

Baki was likely meeting with his advisors, who would push him to try to salvage the relationship with Prince Ebizo’s grand-niece before it was too late. But Baki’s pride would prove a stumbling block, just as she had predicted would happen.

It didn’t take long for messengers to begin pouring into the Viper’s Throat. They carried letters with seals of all different colors and patterns.

Prince Byakuren apologized for the conduct of Concubine Toge, one of Deba’s strongest supporters. Her father had been removed from his position as ambassador and was reflecting on his failure to raise a good daughter. Byakuren sent along jewels, as well as a written vow that he would always remain an ally of the Haruno family.

Prince Ibushi to the southwest disavowed Prince Baki for his lack of respect for traditions. He expressed mortification that he had ever shared a meal with such a man. He explained that the Viper’s Fang would no long be welcome to conduct trade through their port city.

Sakura recalled a battle a few years ago. It was towards the end of the war with Sound Country. With winter closing in, bringing with it the promise of frostbite, Shikamaru had proposed a plan that had sounded impossible at the time.

Rather than attack the main garrison of enemy troops, he had proposed ambushing the cities and roads that provided supplies. It had been a risky maneuver. But they had divided their remaining soldiers and disrupted Sound Country’s supply lines. That was how they had taken one of the biggest fortresses in the country and turned the tides of war in their favor.

Politics was like war in many ways. Maybe people did a little less stabbing, but the outcome was the same. Some people lived. Others died. And all it took was one mistake to break whatever careful balance there was.

There were, of course, some cities who remained silent. None of them would be foolish enough to criticize Sakura outright. But pressure from the surrounding cities would be enough to change their minds in time.

When word came from Karo a few days later, Sakura had to read the letter twice. Just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

Prince Ebizo was disappointed to learn that Prince Baki was not the wise man that rumors suggested. Ebizo urged Sakura to return to Karo and not to suffer discomfort for an instant longer than necessary. He also mentioned that with the souring of this relationship, naturally Sakura could not accept the troops Baki had promised.

“What? But you need those soldiers, don’t you, Lady Sakura?” Temari read over her shoulder.

Sakura sighed as she tried to piece together what Ebizo meant.

“I think… I think that Great-Uncle is suggesting that if I were to refuse those troops… it would be another blow to Prince Baki’s reputation. Because he would be unable to honor a promise he made to me,” Sakura guessed.

“That is a very serious issue here. It might ruin him completely,” Kankuro agreed, looking a little too happy about the prospect.

There was one letter that arrived that put a damper on things.

It was from the city of Solace. To the north. Where Mei’s stepbrother Ao ruled.

Prince Ao sent his regrets at the misfortune that had befallen her. But due to the poor harvest in the north this year, he was unable to cut ties with Prince Baki. He reminded Sakura of how Baki was technically a cousin to her, and suggested that she try to find forgiveness in her heart, which was the mark of a good ruler.

“He must be out of his mind. He’s being deliberately disrespectful,” Kankuro complained.

Sakura tossed the letter on the table with a noise of disgust.

“Well… that was unpleasant,” she remarked.

“Why did you stop, Lady Sakura? There’s more,” Gaara wondered, reaching for the later. He turned pale as he read the final paragraph that Sakura had omitted. Temari grasped his shoulder to steady him.

“What is it?” demanded Kankuro. He grabbed Gaara’s arm to bring the letter closer to him.

“…Father’s in Solace,” Kankuro realized as he read.

“I wonder what he’s said about Lady Sakura. And about us. No wonder Prince Ao seems less than fond of us,” Temari said, her face grim. She moved to put her arm around Gaara’s shoulders instead.

“I’ll inform Great-Uncle. Perhaps there’s something he can do to chastise that man,” muttered Sakura, already thinking of what to write. When she looked up, biting the tip of her thumb, she spotted Gaara’s panicked expression. Her face softened.

She reached across the table to grasp Gaara’s hand. Her eyes were still unfocused. But he squeezed back.

“He’s far from you. He can’t hurt you,” she assured him. Gaara nodded. But he didn’t look convinced.

Along with Ebizo’s letter came an envoy who bowed deeply.

“Since your needs are not being met here, His Highness has commanded me to find housing for you in the city until safe passage to Karo can be arranged,” he reported.

Sakura gazed past the man, to Meno dusting in the corner. When Sakura met her eyes, Meno turned to glance at the door. Then looked back to her. Sakura nodded. She watched Meno gather some dirty linens in a basket before she made her way out. Hopefully the rumor would spread through the palace quickly.

Returning her gaze to the envoy, Sakura smiled.

“I’ll trust your judgment. Please inform my Great-Uncle that I am thankful for his care and kindness,” answered Sakura. The envoy nodded, bowing once again.

That night, Azra and Esma cleared away the bowls and cups from their evening meal.

Sakura had stopped dining with Prince Baki for obvious reasons. She even refused food from the palace’s kitchen. Instead, she sent the twins out to buy food from the market each day. They always returned with grilled meats and fresh bread. They tried to find something new, although Sakura assured them that she wasn’t so picky. When they counted out the change, Sakura pushed it back into their hands.

“Would you like tea? Some more wine?” Azra asked.

“No. You haven’t had a chance to eat yet, have you? Go,” Sakura urged, sending the girls out with impatient pushing motions. The twins smiled as they lifted the trays and made their way out of the room.

Heaving a sigh, Sakura leaned her head back on the couch. Her cousins were out for a walk to help them digest the heavy meal. Their company was nice. It would have been difficult to be away from home for so long if not for them. But a moment of silence was also something she looked forward to every now and then.

She heard the door open.

“What is it?”

“The security of this place is really terrible,” Suigetsu complained, not for the first time, lowering his hood. He crossed the room to hand over a folded piece of paper. And then he helped himself to rest of her wine.

It was a message from Shijima. Thanks to that lax security, Suigetsu and Mangetsu were able to slip in and out of the harem to deliver notes like this one.

“Listen to this,” Sakura said as she read. Suigetsu turned to her, still gulping.

“Prince Baki has been in a foul temper these days. He summoned me, demanding to know how to ‘fix that woman’s mood’. I appeared, shed some tears, and insisted that I was trying my best. I’m beginning to think that you might be right. He is not a bad man, but not very clever.”

Suigetsu choked on the wine. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he coughed and laughed at the same time.

“She sounds like you,” he pointed out, thumping his fist against his chest.

Sakura skimmed over the rest of the message. She crumpled it into her palm to burn later.

“M’Lady,” Suigetsu called, suddenly serious. Her eyes fell on him.

“Have you gotten any sleep?”

The nightmares had crept up on her. It was so sudden that she had almost felt bewildered by their return. But once they settled back into her skull, it was like they had never left in the first place.

She knew that it was stress. The unfamiliar environment. And even as she dreamt, she was frustrated by her lack of control over her own mind.

Swords dripped blood onto rotting corpses. And everywhere she roamed, whether it was on charred battlefields or barren cities, she could hear sobbing. As constant as the chorus of crickets during the summer.  

She jerked awake in the darkness, her heart racing. And if there was someone else in the room, her mind automatically screamed ‘enemy’ without giving the rest of her a chance to catch up. Temari nearly went blind one night when she burst into the room, hearing strange noises. Luckily, the dagger missed and hit the door instead. From that point on, Sakura laid down a strict rule that no one was to disturb her at night.

Mangetsu broke the rule. A lot.

When Sakura woke shouting about someone bleeding out. Ordering someone to put pressure on the wound, because soon the number of corpses would outnumber the living who had to carry them. Sweat drenched her shirt and her hair. And she whipped around as she heard a sound at the window. Mangetsu had opened it from the outside. He pocketed his knife that he had used to wedge the lock open.

“Sleep. I’ll just sit here,” he said, settling in a chair in the corner of the room.

She was too exhausted for anger. She wiped her hand across her forehead.

“What?”

“I’ll just be here. Go back to sleep, M’Lady,” Mangetsu repeated. He idly flicked a bit of sand off his clothes. And when Sakura glared at him, Mangetsu pointed toward the door, where Suigetsu was probably standing watch.

“Has the same thing. It’s better when someone’s in the room with him. I figured I could do the same for you,” the mercenary explained.

Sakura considered throwing him out. But she had spent enough time with Mangetsu and Suigetsu. If she removed him, he would find another way back in. It wasn’t worth arguing with him about this.

It was easier than she thought to fall asleep with him watching her from the corner of the room. Maybe because she was used to him walking past the room at night on his patrols. She had never asked either of the brothers to watch her room so closely. And she had never asked them to confront the palace guards who spoke ill of her. Neither of them had mentioned the latter to her. It was only because Meno and the twins had whispered it to her during a rare moment when both of the mercenaries were out of the room. The rumors were likely exaggerated. But Sakura was confident that it was true that Suigetsu had taken down a guard twice his size. She was less confident that the guard had burst into tears.

She slept a little. It wasn’t perfect. She still jerked awake a few times. But the haunting wails that pierced her ears were a little easier to ignore when in her half-woken daze, she heard a soft sigh and “It’s not real. Try to sleep some more”.

In the morning, when she crawled out of bed, the chair in the corner was empty. And Mangetsu said nothing to her about where he had spent his night, as if it had never happened in the first place.

As Shijima had mentioned in her note, she was kneeling in front of the doors that led to the northern wing of the palace. When the doors opened up, Sakura hesitated. As if surprised to see Shijima sitting there. And then she resumed speaking to Temari as she walked right past the consort. Kankuro and Gaara stared at Shijima. They exchanged looks and then watched Sakura continue down the hall.

“Sorry,” Gaara whispered before they hurried to catch up to Sakura.

“I know what she’s doing. Suddenly extending an olive branch will only undermine her at this point,” Sakura assured Temari once they were out of the palace. She adjusted the shawl that covered her hair.

They didn’t actually have much business in the city. However, it was important that Prince Baki think that they did. They checked the post station to see if any messengers had arrived with news from out west. They relaxed at the bathhouse, ate street foot standing in the shade of a tall building, and then visited a few vendors to browse the shiny wares they had on sale.

By the time they returned to the Viper’s Fang, night had fallen. And Shijima was still kneeling in front of those double doors.

Sakura ignored her again as she swept past.

“Have one of the girls pour some of that wine we purchased. The day has been hot and I’m quite thirsty,” Sakura remarked.

Temari glanced at Shijima. But her steps didn’t falter as she continued after Sakura.

“Of course, Lady Sakura,” Temari replied.

In the morning, Suigetsu tapped on the door to Sakura’s room. Just enough to wake her that she didn’t draw a weapon on him when he stepped inside.

“You know that she’s still out there,” he said, without greeting. He glanced at the empty chair in the corner. Mangetsu had slipped out a little while ago. Suigetsu seemed to know of the arrangement. But like his brother, he made no comment about it.

“Who?” asked Sakura, raking her hands through her tangled hair.

“Shij- The Consort. Whatever.”

Sakura’s hands froze.

“You mean that she’s returned this morning?”

“No. She went somewhere for a few minutes during the night. But then she came right back. Probably went to the…” Suigetsu trailed off and Sakura caught his meaning. Her hands dropped into her lap.

“So she’s been there a full day? Without eating?”

Suigetsu rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “I mean, I haven’t seen anything. Maybe she snuck in a meal during those few minutes? I wouldn’t put it past you nobles. You’re all kind of crazy,” he answered.

Sakura closed her eyes, thinking. She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. She reached her arm for something, pointing. Suigetsu followed the line of her arm until he spotted her robe draped over the back of her chair. A year ago, he would have balked at the thought of being ordered around like this.

Snickering a little at himself, Suigetsu plucked the robe off the chair and draped it over Sakura’s shoulders. She pulled her arms through without thanks. She opened her eyes. They were bloodshot and a little puffy. When Suigetsu pointed to them, Sakura swatted his finger away. She pressed the backs of her hands to her eyelids. Suigetsu’s smile faded as he examined her face.

“What’s the reason why you don’t want to sleep?” he suddenly wondered.

She lowered her hands a little. “What do you mean?”

“Are you scared of your dreams? You know they can’t hurt you,” Suigetsu told her. While he was smiling, it wasn’t a mocking expression. Sakura held his gaze for an extra moment, lowering her hands all the way now.

“No. I’m scared of who I am inside them,” she answered.

Suigetsu was quiet. He nodded.

“Better scared than dead,” he pointed out before he stepped out of the room.

Shijima raised her head when the double doors rumbled open. Sakura took a step out, arms folded across her chest. Her hair was loose. She was still in her nightgown with just a robe thrown on top.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Sakura without greeting.

Shijima lowered her head again.

Shijima had informed her in a short message that she would be putting on some sort of scene. Sakura hadn’t realized that she would push her body so far.

“Please don’t leave, General. I realize that you are rightfully upset. But please reconsider,” Shijima requested, staring at the floor.

“And you think this will change my mind somehow? Kneeling here?”

There were bound to be guards or servants hiding somewhere nearby. Sakura kept her tone cold, her gaze sharp.

“It seems you intend to starve yourself on my doorstep. You must not realize that someone like me is quite familiar with death. Do as you please,” Sakura stated before she slipped back inside. The doors slamming shut behind her.

Sakura walked past Shijima again on her way out into the city. When she returned in the evening, Shijima still knelt there, her face haggard. Sakura didn’t speak to her. Safely inside her room, Sakura turned to Gaara. She put her hands on his shoulders.

“You’ve always been friendly with her, so it will be less suspicious. Sneak outside later and bring the poor girl something to eat. And some water,” Sakura instructed. Gaara nodded. He cast a look of concern toward the door.

But when Gaara returned, he shook his head.

“She refused.”

Sakura sat down. She clenched her jaw. Lifting her fist to her mouth, she pressed her knuckles to her lips.

“She’ll hurt herself,” Temari worried too.

“She must have a plan. She’s not that stupid is she?” Kankuro leaned his elbow on the back of the couch as he spoke.

“She must. But…” Sakura trailed off. She looked up when Gaara crossed the room. He sat at her feet, grasping her free hand.

“We should trust her. She must know what she’s doing,” Gaara urged. She looked down at his face. When had he grown up so much? It took a moment. But a faint smile appeared on her face. She pulled her hand free of his to pat his cheek.

“Yes. I suppose so,” she agreed.

That night, Sakura slept even more fitfully than usual. She was startled awake by someone yelling her name too close to her. Her eyes flew open to find Mangetsu’s face above her. She moved to push him away, but her arm jerked to a stop. It took her a moment to take in the situation.

Mangetsu’s hands gripped her wrists, holding them above her head. And before she could rebuke him, she felt the shape and weight of a knife in her hand. In both of them, actually. She slowly relaxed her fingers and wrists. Let the blades fall harmlessly onto the bed. Mangetsu stared her right in the eyes. Whatever he read there seemed like enough. He let out a sigh of relief as he released her. Sakura flexed her hands, rubbing her reddened wrists. They would probably bruise.

“Sorry. You woke swinging knives and I had to,” he muttered, taking a few steps back.

Sakura nodded. She tried to calm her shallow breaths as she sat up. She turned her head away from him, fist pressed to her forehead. It was mortifying enough for someone to witness this. Somehow his lack of judgment made it all the more embarrassing.

The door opened.

“You don’t look like you’re going back to sleep this time.”

“So you’re both just walking in and out as you wish now,” Sakura growled as she recognized Suigetsu’s voice.

“Come on, M’Lady. Let me show you something nice,” Suigetsu said, ignoring her glare. He picked up her falchion propped up in the corner by the bed.

“What nonsense are you saying in the middle of the night?” she sighed. “Put my sword back.”

Suigetsu’s tone changed. He was serious now. “M’Lady.” He waited until she was looking at him properly. “I don’t know a lot of things. But this… I know this.”

So Sakura followed Suigetsu outside, into the courtyard. Mangetsu trailed after them, an odd smile on his lips, as if he were in on some kind of joke.

He tossed Sakura her falchion. She kept it in the scabbard, regarding Suigetsu with suspicion. Suigetsu wielded his own weapon. And then he reached out toward his brother. Mangetsu unsheathed his sword and handed it over to Suigetsu with a pointed look.

Looking insulted, Suigetsu grumbled, “I’ll be careful. I’ve only dropped it once…. twice.”

And then he turned to Sakura with a grin.

“I’ve seen you fight before. With all those fancy twirls. It’s stupid.”

Suigetsu was brutal. He lunged and slashed in the moments when she felt most vulnerable. And just when she felt like she might be able to catch her breath, he was attacking again. There was no question that Suigetsu’s fighting style was unrefined and nonsensical at times. But it was something that was born out of necessity, not flair. So what it lacked in showmanship it more than made up in efficiency. She managed to get in some good maneuvers here in there, but by the end of the round, she felt somewhat like a fox being chased down by a pack of particularly tenacious hounds.

“Sometimes…”  Suigetsu suddenly said, “It feels nice to just do something… and not to think. It helps.” He held his hand out to her.

Sakura searched his face. And then she almost smiled as she grasped his hand, letting him pull her up.

“I know what you mean,” she replied.

She washed up and fell back into bed for the little time left until dawn. She closed her eyes, still a little afraid to sleep. But exhaustion made it difficult for her to fight sleep for long. And mercifully, when she succumbed, it was to a dark, dreamless sleep. Kind and quiet like the bottom of the ocean.

A few hours later, Sakura was out of her bed. She opened up the doors to the north wing of the palace. Shijima still knelt there. Her movements were sluggish as she lifted her head. Sakura took a few steps forward. Stopped in front of her. And then she knelt, leaning in close.

“You’re not waiting for me, are you?” Sakura whispered.

Shijima glanced around. And then she offered Sakura a tiny, secretive smile.

Sakura lifted her head a little. She pulled a wineskin out of her cloak and tossed it in front of Shijima.

“Drink. Or I really will leave today,” Sakura ordered.

Shijima opened the cap and took a sip of the water. And then she another. Soon, she was gulping down every last drop in the container. When she looked up to Sakura, wiping her chin on the back of her hand, Sakura was holding out an orange.

“You must realize that this is ridiculous, Consort Hoki,” Sakura chastised as she watched Shijima peel the orange. But her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t do it. Clucking her tongue, Sakura reached out to peel the fruit for her. She handed the segments to Shijima and watched her eat.

“What will happen if you leave this way? Doesn’t that doom this city?” Shijima worried, chewing as she spoke.

Cheek in her hand, Sakura tilted her head as she thought.

“Doom is a strong word.”

Shijima looked relieved.

“But not wholly inaccurate.”

Shijima looked even more concerned than before.

“His contacts to the east will continue to deal with him. Largely because of you, actually. You do know that marrying you has made that man richer than he could have ever hoped?” Sakura pointed out. And though she had mentioned this to Shijima before, perhaps the wording struck a chord within her. Because Shijima’s eyes widened.

“His standing out here will certainly change, however. I’ve persuaded my Great-Uncle not to declare war, which is a good thing. Great-Uncle hates conflict, but his heir doesn’t,” Sakura went on. Her eyes darted to the presence she had noticed hiding further down the corridor. The servant girl ducked behind the column, likely praying that Sakura hadn’t spotted her.

“I’ll tell you something good because I personally like you, Consort Hoki. The Arids have been peaceful for so long for two reasons,” Sakura said, holding two fingers up. “The first is that the major cities have intermarried so much that there are few of us who cannot call each other ‘cousin’. And second is that most of the cities here are of similar standing. Or they are allied with someone who can protect them. It’s usually the weakest in a pack that gets swallowed by predators, after all.”

Sakura could see the words settling into Shijima’s head. The girl turned pale.

“So if The Viper’s Throat falls-” Shijima whispered.

“Predators will fall on it like vultures on carrion,” Sakura finished the thought for her.

This wasn’t something she had gone over with Shijima beforehand. She hadn’t wanted this reaction to feel rehearsed in any way. And perhaps it was a little cruel. Sakura wouldn’t abandon Shijima in the middle of such a risky affair, but the girl had no way of knowing that. They had only known each other for a short time.

With the consequences hanging over her head, Shijima would be pushed to be think a little harder and to speak with more conviction. And from the way that the servant girl went sprinting down the hall, perhaps Baki would realize just how badly things could go if he continued to cling to his pride.

“You can kneel here for as long as you wish, Consort. But I am returning to my Great-Uncle’s city in a week’s time. As soon as all my affairs are put into order. And you can continue to kneel here once I’m gone for all I care,” Sakura concluded, rising to her full height. As the double doors closed, Sakura turned around to look at Shijima. She offered her a glimpse of a smile before the doors separated them again. She hoped that the girl would be smart enough to put together a good strategy. Sakura had set her up with some strong pieces, but there was only so much she could do from behind for her.

Later that morning, Azra and Esma whispered to Sakura that there was some sort of commotion. They guided her by the hand to a secret passage hidden behind a large urn. She had always felt suspicious of the placement of the ostentatious decoration. But she was thankful for it now when the twins guided her into the narrow space. It led them an oddly-shaped space. When Azra pointed to a set of tiny holes, Sakura was confused. Esma mimed cupping her hands around one ear. So Sakura leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the holes.

“I’ve had enough of this spectacle. Get up this instant, Consort Hoki.”

It was Prince Baki’s voice.

When Sakura looked to the twins, Azra nodded furiously. Sakura pointed at the other holes on the wall. She motioned for the girls to join her. Eyes glittering, they squished in with her to listen in on the conversation.

“I will kneel here for as long as it takes for the General to quell her anger, My Lord,” Shijima replied. Sakura smiled at how confident Shijima sounded.

“Forget that woman. She’ll be leaving soon. You should be thinking of how this affects my reputation,” Baki grumbled.

Sakura scoffed. So did Esma.

“I am thinking of your reputation, My Lord. If relations with the Haruno family truly remain this way, it will affect every part of your reputation. Surely you realize this.”

“Do not nag me, Consort Hoki. Don’t think as if you know everything just because you’ve spent some time with that woman.”

Sakura shook her head. She had no idea what Shijima saw in that bull-headed man. She had asked Shijima on multiple occasions whether this was the path she really wanted to choose. It would be a simple affair to have them divorce and to bring Shijima with her to Plumeria. They had no children, so the divorce could be on the basis that they had failed to produce a legitimate heir. One of Baki’s many concubines could be promoted to Consort instead. She would do well in the tropical climate. And there were so many nice young men she could introduce her to. Ones that would surely be head over heels for her. Unlike a certain stubborn fool.

“Maybe I should be nagging you. You haven’t handled things very well with my silence.”

That snapped Sakura right back to attention. Azra grabbed Esma’s hand, eyes wide.

“What was that?”

“You’ve never seen me as your consort. You allow your concubines to harass me. You exclude me from social events when I should be by your side. And all this time, I’ve held my tongue because I trusted that my lord husband would know what he was doing.”

Azra’s mouth fell open.

Sakura grimaced to herself. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the expression on Baki’s face. That was a bold criticism to unleash on anyone.

“I’m no longer a child. And you’re not the man I thought you were. I suppose it’s time for the both of us to face reality.”

Esma slapped her hands over Azra’s mouth. Sakura covered her own mouth with her hand. They waited for something else. But it was silent.

Just as Sakura began to worry that she might have to intervene, she heard noises again.

“Come with me,” Baki growled. And then footsteps began retreating across the stone. Hurried and sharp.

The following morning, Shijima arrived at the northern wing of the Viper’s Fang. Meno opened the door, bowed, and then disappeared to go inform Sakura of the visitor.

Sakura leaned against the inside of the door, staring out at Shijima. Because Shijima was rosy-faced and practically glowing with satisfaction. Sakura appraised her, sighed.

“What is it?” she demanded, still aware of the eyes all around the palace.

“I have a proposition from my lord husband,” Shijima announced.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. “And where is this… lord husband of yours during such an important discussion?” she wondered.

Shijima gave an impish smile. “Still asleep. My lord is quite tired from… a long night,” she admitted, lowering her voice. Sakura had to fight the urge to smile right back. She turned on her heel instead.

“Come inside quickly. Don’t waste my time,” she retorted. The doors closed behind Shijima as she followed after her.

But as soon as the doors were gone, and Mangetsu confirmed that no one else was around, Sakura threw her arms around Shijima.

“Oh, well done, love. You’ve worked so hard,” Sakura said, her voice warm now.

And although Shijima had been smiling, the instant she heard those words, she burst into tears. Clinging on to the back of Sakura’s dress, she sobbed about how frightened she had been. How difficult it was to watch everyone who had once been so warm to her to act so cold now. Even if it was all just a show. Azra and Esma sniffled too as they set an extra place for Shijima at the breakfast table.

Teary-eyed and runny-nosed, Shijima took a sip of the tea they offered to her. She had cried even harder when Temari had rushed out in her nightgown to hug her too, starting the hysterics anew.

“Now. Eat something. You must be starving,” Sakura urged. Before she could move her hands, Gaara was already piling fruits and bread onto her plate. Kankuro refilled her teacup and added a bit of sugar.

“I… ate last night… with His Majesty,” she confessed, her eyes falling to the table.

“Is that all you did? Eat?” Kankuro probed.

Shijima erupted scarlet. Temari reached over to slap her brother on the arm while Sakura chuckled.

“So this is what you meant when you told me you learned things before you came here,” Sakura teased. Hands on her cheeks, Shijima peeked up at her. When she nodded, Kankuro burst out laughing. He fell against Gaara’s shoulder. Gaara had his face turned away to be polite, but from the way his shoulder’s shook, it was easy to see that he was laughing too.

“Mother told me many stories. I’d never… but I knew… so…”

As Shijima grew an even brighter shade of red, Kankuro took a sip of tea.

“Father had 8 concubines, so Mother had to be good at maintaining a household.”

Kankuro spat his tea out. And Sakura couldn’t even chastise him for his poor table manners because she was too busy coughing and choking on her tea too.

As it turned out, one of the skills Shijima’s mother had instilled in her was the art of good pillow talk. Whatever had transpired during the night had left Prince Baki quite open to suggestions. Shijima wormed her way into his thoughts, suggesting this and gently steering him away from that. While Shijima had struggled with dealing with other women, apparently she had little trouble with the opposite sex.

“So I suggested that all you really wanted was a fair punishment for Concubine Deba. And that if you were appeased, all the relations and diplomacy would go back to normal,” Shijima explained.

“What is ‘fair’ in your eyes then?” asked Sakura.

“Well… I knew Prince Baki wouldn’t want to execute Concubine Deba and her son. After all, that’s his son too. So I suggested stripping the son of his title and sending Concubine Deba away instead.”

Sakura nodded, examining the healing cuts on the back of her hand. “Why not send her to work for my Great-Uncle? Labor for her debts?”

“What about the other concubines? The ones that helped Deba?” prompted Temari.

“The same treatment. Prince Baki was hesitant at first. But then I assured him that our son would be the best successor,” Shijima said, placing her hand on her stomach.

“There’s no way of knowing that you are already…” Kankuro trailed off, miming a rounded stomach with his hands.

“No. But… we have time. It will happen eventually. The women of my family are very fertile,” Shijima answered with confidence. “I also suggested that since I’d appraised the value of the goods I confiscated from the harem, that we could send them to the Haruno family as a gesture of apology and goodwill. It would cost Prince Baki no additional money and it would help smooth things over for now. Just like you said, General.”

Sakura nodded, her coughing finally under control.  

Gaara handed over her tea to help clear her throat. Sakura took a sip before she spoke again.

“You do realize that by not killing his sons you’re leaving a threat for the future,” Sakura warned, not for the first time.

Shijima nodded. “I don’t want to do it. It doesn’t feel right. Even if it means they’ll come back to challenge me. I’ll just have to work a little harder.”

Sakura looked down at her tea. She set it to the side. “I don’t know if it’s the right choice, but you’ve made it. And I respect that,” she admitted.

They went over some more details together. Sakura would send out a letter to Karo in a few more days outlining Shijima’s compromise. Another one would reach Hilal as well. From there, the rumors would spread. And Sakura would make every effort to ensure that Consort Hoki’s name was attached to the story.

Prince Baki was not a complicated man. Whatever Shijima’s mother had taught her was obviously effective against him. As the days went by, he was rarely seen without Shijima at his side. And when the concubines saw how much the prince favored the consort now, there was a mad scramble to try to get into her good graces. The servants as well were quick to change their allegiances.

With some persuasion on Shijima’s part, Prince Baki even apologized for the delay in handling such a terrible insult against her. It was interesting how much his gaze had changed in a matter of days. No longer were his stares directed at her. In fact, it seemed he was having trouble looking anywhere but at Shijima, which Sakura welcomed. And hanging on Baki’s arm, Shijima looked so happy that Sakura couldn’t find it in her to criticize the man too much.

“It’s quite alright. It’s all thanks to Consort Hoki that things were resolved so quickly,” Sakura commended instead.

And Baki looked over at Shijima to smile.

“Yes. She’s wise, isn’t she?” he answered.

But as Sakura prepared to move on to their next stop, the eastern kingdoms to the east of the Viper’s Throat, Sakura received a letter from Ebizo.

My dear,

I know it was your intention to visit the Qing Kingdom, but I must ask you to journey north instead.

Rasa’s influence over Prince Ao has become concerning for all of us. He has refused summons to return back to Karo. I would send troops there myself, but Prince Ao may see that as an act of aggression. Instead, I must request that you visit the city for yourself and handle Rasa as you see fit. He ceased to serve a purpose for us when you had him removed for your employ. You have dealt with the man for much longer than I have, so I will trust whatever judgment you pass.

Sakura burned the letter as quickly as she could.

When she read between the lines, she could see what her great-uncle was asking. If she found it necessary, she could eliminate Rasa completely. And that wasn’t something she wanted Temari and her siblings to have to confront.

Instead, she put on a smile as she informed her cousins that there was to be a change of plans. Kankuro was a bit disappointed that he wouldn’t get a chance to see the markets in the east. There were rumors of grand festivals that he had been looking forward to taking part in. And when Sakura revealed that they would be moving north instead, Gaara said nothing. His expression was tight though. Temari grabbed his hand. She motioned for Kankuro, who moved to grasp Gaara’s other hand.

“You can return to Karo first if you’d prefer. It should be a quick trip,” Sakura offered.

Heads close together, the siblings exchanged a few quiet words. Temari frowned as Gaara shook his head.

“We will be with you, Lady Sakura,” Gaara promised.

Sakura sent word ahead of her. Although she hadn’t actually been invited, Ao would have no choice but to open his arms to her if he didn’t want to suffer some sort of criticism from neighboring cities.

As they prepared the luggage and the gifts for their reluctant hosts, Baki invited Sakura to visit the barracks in the city with him. Kankuro and Temari were busy overseeing preparations, but Gaara was free to accompany her. He held her hand as they walked through the busy city. Mangetsu trailed a little ways behind them.

When they arrived at the barracks, they appeared to be running through drills. Sakura recognized the setup. Men lined up in a formation. A single man in front barking orders.

As Baki stepped onto the field, they stopped. The man in front was tall with shaggy white hair. He stood at attention, saluting as Baki approached him. He yelled an order. All the soldiers saluted in unison.

Smiling, Baki extended an arm to gesture towards the men.

“Your regiment, as promised, General,” he announced.

Sakura released Gaara’s hand. She crossed her arms behind her back as she turned her gaze to the men. “How many in total?”

“5000, as promised. And this is Commander Darui. My best,” Baki replied.

Sakura arched an eyebrow. “You’re giving away your best? Let’s not tell each other lies, Prince Baki,” Sakura retorted.

Baki’s smile faded a little. But he tried to reclaim the expression, laughing.

“Alright, you’ve caught me there. But Commander Darui is certainly one of the best. He will not fail you. And he speaks the language of the west, so you should have no discomfort communicating with him.”

Sakura looked Darui over. He kept his gaze on her feet.

“Do you have a problem serving under a woman?” she queried.

“No, Ma’am,” came his prompt reply.

“We’re going far from here. You will not return to these lands. Are you still willing?” she pressed.

He saluted. “I will follow you wherever, General. It is an honor.”

Sakura scrutinized his face. And then she laughed a little. “What an insincere reply. Well, you have some time to change your mind if necessary.”

Then she turned to face the soldiers still in formation.

“My travels will take me far from this land. If any of you are unwilling to follow me, be it family or an aversion to reporting to a woman, then I will not force you on this journey. We depart in a week. If you choose not to follow me, there will be no consequences. Take some time to make your decision,” she announced before clapping her hands once.

Without waiting for any input from the two men, Sakura began walking away from the barracks. Gaara hurried after her. But Mangetsu was already at her side, leaning in towards her to whisper.

“You shouldn’t have been so easy-going, M’Lady. You’ll lose some of them.”

Sakura leveled him with a look. As if she couldn’t believe his line of thinking.

“Good,” she replied, “I need troops to become my hands and feet, not a burden. I would rather leave any whining children behind.”

Mangetsu snickered, shaking his head a little.

“Then why are you bringing Suigetsu?” Gaara asked, grabbing onto Sakura’s sleeve as he finally caught up.

Mangetsu laughed even louder. And Sakura smiled too as they made their way onto the bustling city streets.

++++

<Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25>

[psalloacappella]

show me how

Pairings: SasuSaku Fandom:  Naruto Rating: M Genre/Tags: AU; in which Sasuke is a driver, Sakura plays no games; also has an underground fight club; sexual tension; dominant Sakura; Uchiha bros being bros Ao3 | twt

In which Sasuke is the new driver for the Haruno heiress — and therefore, prey.

[In the words of Rihanna, You look like you can handle what’s under my hood // you keep saying that you will, boy, I wish you would.]

❦

His mother would say he’s aiming a bit above his station, lip-chewing, worrisome; his father would disapprove, thinking the new client spoiled.

Itachi, greyish eyes twinkling with some genial but teasing expression, shifts to let his ponytail tumble down his back. Women adore the look; Sasuke likens it to a horsetail well within earshot every chance he gets. Brothers, you know.

Pinching the photo between thumb and forefinger with hesitancy, the lack of commitment stark as a first app-date gone sour and seeking escape, Sasuke knows he’s pouting and he knows Itachi’s amused.

“I’d have taken her,” he consoles softly — Sasuke hates that tone too, like he’s chivvying a hot-tempered horse into his stable, oh gods, fuck Itachi for this — “but out of the two she requested you. Very taken with your photo.”

“Itachi.” The given name comes through gritted teeth, and Itachi struggles not to smile. Sasuke hopes the effort’s absolutely killing him. “This is the Haruno heiress. Pink hair, red temper?”

“Funny, I do know. Almost as if she’s famous, dear brother.”

“Infamous. For killing her last driver.”

“Oh, come now.”

“Running him off. Driving him to insanity.” And here Sasuke jabs the finger of his free hand against the photographed face: smiling, with a sharp gleam in her jade eyes. He punctuates each syllable against her cheek, “Take—your—pick!”

Itachi’s tongue clicks continue to conjure pastoral images of horses and other farmish animals, and Sasuke thinks this unasked for, supernatural form of punishment is a right divine kick in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sure the talk is mostly nonsense,” he soothes. Bending to behold the portrait shot further, he rests his fingers against his mouth. Pensive. People often adore that too. “After all, she’s cleaned up her image quite a bit.” Itachi extends his hand, counting off her improvements:  “Issued apologies for the yacht incident—”

“Pretty sure she’s banned from the piers now.”

“Recovered brilliantly from her very public and messy breakup with the Hyuuga heir—”

“A piece of shit, granted, but she still keyed his car, and then his face—”

“Even had a great photo-op of visiting Uzumaki Naruto in the hospital—”

“That she put him in.”

“She even disbanded her underground fight club,” Itachi added, plucking the photo and folder from his younger brother’s hands, a final that’s that!

“Her what?”

“Bad optics. Oh, and you start Monday.” He pats a stunned Sasuke gently on the shoulder; not one to easily manage particularly happy or buoyant expressions, he prays to whatever forces or deities exist that he’s been passed over for the coveted yet dangerous position of personal driver for Miss Sakura Haruno.

.

Driver — ah, the term is misleading. A position often including, but not limited to:  Chauffeur, personal assistant, event planner, bodyguard, bookkeeper, and occasionally dragging paparazzi out of the bushes by their lapels, testing meals for poison, and smuggling her short-term affairs in and out of back building doors.

A skittish attendant is the only witness to the moment in which he meets her in person.

Sunshowers, an unnatural brightness like daylight thunderstorms; a presence difficult to face head-on. Slender and swagger, something in the way she walks suggesting she’s aware of exactly who she is and what he’s probably heard, keen eyes plucking his thoughts from his soupy skull by slice and piece only to toss them aside, limp, discarded.

And she’s gorgeous. Beauty in lethality, the inherent quality pined for in mythological Olympian goddesses and well-crafted guns and dangerous and unwieldy luxury cars. The wreckage left in their wake easy to augur with plain eyes if anyone can resist the siren song.

Sasuke’s hands are clammy when they shake. She notices, with a gaze like whetted glass.

Fuck Itachi. Fuck this. Fuck me.

“How do you like to be addressed . . . Miss Haruno?”

A smirk plays on her lips. “Not like that, for damn sure. Sakura’s fine. Let’s go.”

She’s opening her own car door and about to lower herself in before he snaps to — the tyranny of her heels against the cobblestones twists him into impossible nautical knots.

“I don’t care if you get the door,” she says, “but Tsunade’ll have your head.” With a jerk of her chin, she indicates she’s ready to go.

“Won’t happen again,” he says, dipping his head in apology and settling into the driver’s seat. “Where to?”

“Oh, wherever.” Flicks a dainty wrist, yet he catches the brushrust scrapes smeared across her knuckles. “You’re a driver, after all; I want to see you drive.”

Easing the car into gear, they pull away from the curb in silence. Eyeing him caddy-corner from the back, she folds her arms and crosses her long, impossibly long legs at the ankles.

“So.” The word’s sharp as a blade, scratches him without warning. “What do you know about me?”

He makes a noncommittal noise, hoping to avoid riposte; when he catches the slight flare of her nostrils in the mirror, he settles on the bland and stupid, “I’m not sure what you mean, Mis— Sakura.”

“Don’t play coy,” she says. “Tell me what the quidnuncs on the street say, gossiping over their limp salads and lackluster lives.”

“I’ve heard you’ve run every driver out of town.”

“Yes, that’s fair. The last one quite literally; he was terrified, in the end.”

“I’ve heard you . . . play with your food.”

Another careful peripheral glance in the mirror:  He sees her uncross her arms, grip the edges of the seat. Leaning forward, eyes bright and something, essence or woven narrative or tangled web undulating, unraveling. She exposed; him, encroaching.

Voice low, lean, and throaty when she affirms,

“Yes, sometimes I do.”

The click! of a released seat belt latch, and she’s sliding over to the backseat behind him.

Sasuke’s mouth runs dry, parched as desert sand, sunbaked stone. There’s a first time for everything, including this unsettling feeling to which he has nothing to compare.

Leather moulding to her shape as she leans against the seat, her gaze seeking refuge and scraping at any weak spots in the back of his skull.

“If you were hoping for a shy one, you’re driving the wrong car for the wrong girl.”

He scoffs, but it sounds nervous, bad for business —

she’ll devour him.

“Of all the things I’ve heard,” he says, “shy was definitely not one of them.”

He doesn’t know when his voice decided to do that, slide into a low bass with the ease and thrum of rich regal rhythm; he doesn’t know when he even had a breath to release, the way it manifests as a pant in the hot shared air of the car.

“Lest you be misinformed,” and still her tone is grainy, the stret-scratch of extempore acoustic guitar, “I don’t act this way with all my drivers. Any, in fact.”

“Ah.”

“Don’t, with that aloof disbelief.” She presses her foot against his seat and he feels a jab right in the middle of his back, the equivalent of a flirtatious swat at the arm. A bit more intimidating than that, he supposes.

“Everything is so public for me,” she continues. Pauses. “I’m almost never alone. Drivers continue to disappoint me, pretending to be my confidant but in reality reporting my behavior to sleazy paparazzi. It’s never about the money; they love divulging. They can’t help themselves.”

He would be willing to debate the “drivers” label, but he now understands why the last one and many before have been dealt a particularly heavy hand in the method of released employment.

“So.”

This time the word’s triumphant, and Sasuke manages not to startle as her heel settles on the shoulder of the driver’s seat. Skin close enough to press his lips to, swirling floral scents of jasmine and others unidentified, salient sweet cherry. Glancing at the tempting slope of her calf, he keeps his eyes firmly on the road even as the dark corners of his mind lead his mouth marching up her pliant skin, bound by siren song, and into what surely is the most sacrosanct and calamitous temple of them all.

“You have this chance to quit,” she whispers. “Right now, no fuss.”

And he betrays himself a second time, scoffing as the suggestion of course is mirthful, ridiculous, knowing somehow he’ll never do so. He’s never been one to shirk duty, and untangling from this, whatever this is, already bids the trappings and fixation of an addiction too virulent and electric to leave.

“I’ll take that as acceptance,” Sakura says, now all joy and sparkle, wiggling her shoe near his handsome face.

Though his hands are clammy on the wheel, his words manage to gloss over the catch in his throat as he asks, “Ah, where to?”

In the mirror he watches:  Another layer of her falls again, as crêpe layers, as petals. It’s the first time he notices the lambent green of her nails, and she nibbles on one before responding, in a way so deliberate he’s distracted by the way her lips form the words:

“Show me how you drive.”

[loveoaths]

enmity as environ: interrogating the roots of antagonism between sunagakure and kirigakure.*

* but badly, because i am very, very tired.

considering the vast relative distance between the land of wind and the land of water, i think it makes perfect sense for them to have issues with each other for a variety of reasons.

1) linguistic differences: i headcanon that while japanese is the common language of the naruto world, other languages are in use in regions analagous to their real-world counterparts. for example, the land of wind is a desert country, and likely contains languages like arabic, aramaic, and other near eastern* and middle eastern languages ( *considering the narutoworld's mixture of antiquity and modernity, i've opted to include the antiquated phrasing as well ). people who cannot communicate effectively are more likely to wind up in enmity.

2) cultural and religious differences: again, very self-explanatory. cultures that seem diametrically opposed in every way ( like these two nations' cultures are primed to be ) will often turn one another into Cultural, Racial, and Spectral Others. in Othering a group, you reduce their humanity and compress them into flattened, often racially-charged, caricatures.

3) social, perspective, moral, and economic differences: sunagakure comes across as more community and village oriented. they're wary to outsiders and prioritize looking after their own. wind country is not a very economically rich nation, although they do seem to have greater access to metals, minerals, and precious gems, much like the african continent ( which should make them one of the wealthiest regions in the world, but that ain't my business ). water is their most valuable resource. they seem more reserved, traditional. rationing is a way of life. now that i'm looking at the map, wind country should be the origins of the Red Road ( what i am referring to as the narutoworld's version of the Silk Roads ) and benefit heavily from tourism, trade, religious pilgrimmages, and bodyguard missions.

meanwhile, kirigakure is the opposite in all the ways that matter. they are water-wealthy and, frankly, could grow a variety of crops from around the world on the many different climes on the island, but they have little arable land and are geographically tiny in general. water country relies on sea trade. it's a politically tumultous region prone to upset, and a lot of new ideas on government's relation to the people is flooding the island right now. they are actively suspicious and hostile to outsiders and tourists, and are highly supersitituous. religion has been de-emphasized by military regimes in the region. kiri folk see themselves as looking out for number one in order to look out for the village. they do not trust each other. they do not trust the village. but they love the village because it's all they know. everything about wind country and sunagakure would seem alien to them, and what seems antithetical to your way of life is oh so easy to Other.

4) social structure/hierarchy differences: water country runs on a racial and social caste system. leaders do not seem to be democratically elected, and are instead selected and groomed by their predecessors. there is no being born into the mizukage position. there is no royalty. in the last twenty years, all of its leaders have taken over via military coup, subterfuge, or similar action.

conversely, wind country has royalty. the kazekage position seems to be handed down within the same families. as two fiercely proud nations, it's likely that they would condemn the others' political practices. kirigakure would be less likely to respect a village whose leader is chosen by birth, and sunagakure would likely consider kirigakure's system unrefined, needlessly harmful, and highly embarrassing.

5) resource-access differences: each country has access to resources that the other desperately wants and needs, particularly if they hope to continue expanding. they both likely view the other as squandering what they have, and belief that if they could conquer and annex the other nation they could solve a large portion of their resource issues. one may argue that this would just lead to the two trading together, but i believe any economic relationship they have is highly unstable, contentious, and fraught. kirigakure has a history of trying to attack sunagakure, and  historically both villages have attempted to screw each otherover on trades multiple times, to the point where one of the kazekages eventually placed an embargo on trade with kiri. if, if these relations are opening up again, it is with due caution and suspicion on both sides of the pond.

all of these differences ( and a whole host more i can't think of right now ) mean that these people do NOT see eye to eye. enmity between the two nations and the two villages probably go waaaaaay back and aren't going away any time soon.

[rayshippouuchiha]

god the follow up with jiraiya kills me both because godammit jiraiya you fucked up but also because whats gonna happen when he gets there. that is, what is GAARA going to do when he realizes this guy is here because He Lost Naruto? gaara: i promised naruto i would stop killing people who annoyed me But Im Willing To Make A Fucking Exception

Gaara isn’t sure, exactly, what he was expecting when he was summoned to the Council Chambers directly after returning to the village.

He hasn’t killed anyone inside of the village since before the failed invasion and since Rasa’s death and all that had followed, he’s been attempting to … turn over a new leaf he believes is the way the saying goes.

To protect Suna and its people, to prove himself more than the monster he spent so long trying to be, has become Gaara’s driving force.

‘Well,’ Gaara can’t help but think more than a bit wryly, a hand coming up to press against the pocket sown into the inner folds of his top and the treasure it holds safely against his heart, ‘that is, perhaps, not entirely accurate.’

Gaara’s true driving force is a great deal more … focused.

Either way he’s been making a concentrated effort to be better than he once was so a summons to the Council Chamber is more than a bit unexpected.

Stepping inside and coming face to face with none other than Jiraiya of the Sannin is even more unexpected.

There’s a few minutes of obligatory introductions, the Council making ingratiating small talk and the like, but Gaara stands silent in the center of it all.

He never once takes his eyes off of Jiraiya even as a prickle of unease traces down his spine.

Finally the Council trails out of the room, surprisingly comfortable with leaving Gaara alone with the Sannin.  Or, more than likely, less than eager to be trapped in a room with the both of them on the off chance violence erupts.

Normally Gaara would hold his silence but there’s a prickling down his spine and a curiosity and unease itching at his brain that prompts him to speak.

“Tell me,” Gaara says softly, “Jiraiya of the Sannin, where is Uzumaki Naruto?”

Across the way Jiraiya’s brows furrow and his mouth thins. 

“That,” Jiraiya says after a too long pause, “is actually what I came here to ask you.”

Gaara’s already rigid posture stiffens even more.

In the back of his mind Shukaku stirs in discontent but Gaara presses the urge down ruthlessly.

He can’t, won’t, attack the Sannin.

Not when he knows exactly who he is to Naruto.

Not unless or when Naruto tells him otherwise.

Because if Naruto were to ever give the word, if he ever even hinted that he would prefer Jiraiya or anyone else gone…

Well.

“Explain.” The demand comes out as more of a hiss than a word, like a kettle steadily building steam.

“Look,” Jiraiya reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “me and the kid we had a …. disagreement and he took off.  He won’t go back to Konoha, at least not for a while, so I figured … he talked about you.  A lot actually.  Said you were friends.  I figured if he went anywhere that wasn’t Konoha, it’d be here.  To you.  So if he asked you to act like he isn’t here, if you’re housing him, I’d like to know so we can put this behind us.”

Gaara stays silent, mind whirling like the desert sands.

Naruto had … run away?

The very thought feels almost blasphemous somehow.

So Gaara very carefully doesn’t answer Jiraiya outright.

Instead he just inclines his head in Jiraiya’s direction, a gesture ambiguous enough to hopefully buy him some time.

“Naruto was very … excited about traveling with you,” Gaara states quietly and just the slightest bit leading.  “He was very upset when he left you.”

Gaara has no doubt about that.

Jiraiya’s wince is rather surprisingly poorly hidden even as he holds his silence.

Yes, there is definitely more to this than is being said.

Gaara is certain, without a single shred of doubt, that there is more to the story.

And he also knows, as sure as the rising sun, exactly whose side his aid will fall on.

“The Council will provide you with rooms,” Gaara finally says, already turning towards the door.  “Refresh and rest yourself.  I will return to my rooms and see if a … resolution of some sort can’t be found.”

“Tell the kid I’m not upset,” Jiraiya tells him, something like grief or guilt flashing across his face, tugging the wide set of his shoulders down for a split second.  “Tell him I’m … just tell him to come see me.  Soon.”

Gaara doesn’t answer, just keeps moving.

 ~~~

A hour later finds Gaara in his own rooms, settled down in his customary place by the window.

The apartment is empty around him as it always is.

Even though he has made some progress with Temari and Kankuro both Gaara still lives on his own in a set of rooms in a more secluded part of the Compound.  So many years on his own, pressed into isolation, makes the very idea of sharing a living space with his siblings … unsettling.

His hand comes up to press against his heart again, a move that’s quickly become second nature to him over the past months.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” Gaara whispers to himself, to the stillness of his home, to the watching moon.  “What was done to drive you away and where have you gone?”

Because he’s not here with Gaara no matter how certain Jiraiya seems to be that Gaara would be Naruto’s first stop.

Gaara, on the other hand, is rather certain he knows better.

He likes to think that months of letters being exchanged has given him a certain degree of insight into his first and only friend.

No one had been more surprised than he when Naruto’s first letter had arrived only weeks after they’d last seen each other.

But Gaara had read that letter with a mix of helplessness and elation bubbling to life inside of him.

And then he’d written back.

And things had spiraled from there.

And now Gaara has a chest set aside solely to hold Naruto’s letters as well as copies of the ones he himself had sent to his friend, each copy carefully dated and stored away in their proper order.

The only thing out of place is …

Gaara reaches into his top and removes his prized possession from the hidden and reinforced pocket he always keeps it in.

It is, after all, the first gift he’s received since he killed Yashamaru.

It’s nothing extravagant, just a thin piece of lacquered wood, simple and unremarkable really.

But it’s what was painstakingly engraved on it that matters to Gaara.

Because pressed into the wood is a single, perfect spiral.

An Uzumaki Clan Spiral Gaara knows now.

And nestled, cradled, in the very center of that spiral is a familiar kanji.

Ai.

Love.

His kanji.

The symbolism had been enough to take Gaara’s breath away when he’d first seen it.  He still feels a little breathless every time he looks at it even after all this time.

‘It’s you and me,’ the letter Naruto had enclosed it in had explained. ‘My spiral and your tattoo.  Now we can be together no matter how far apart we are.’

And in that moment Naruto had disarmed him completely without even trying.

With a nearly silent sigh, Gaara brings the token up, presses his lips against the smooth edge of the wood, and then tucks it back into his top.  A comforting ritual now complete.

He doesn’t know what’s happened between Jiraiya and Naruto but he does know where his loyalties lie.

And so he knows exactly what he’ll do.

He’ll do everything in his power to buy Naruto time.

Perhaps he’ll be able to stall long enough to give Naruto even more of a head start on his journey.  Maybe he’ll be able to ensure that Naruto has more time to put even more distance between himself and whatever it is Jiraiya has done to hurt him.

It is the very least that Gaara can do.

For Naruto.

His friend.

The one who gave him a new way of life.

His driving force.

Besides, if Gaara doesn’t hear from Naruto soon, he’ll just have to set out and  look for his friend himself.

It’s not like there’s anyone in the village who could stop him.

~~~

Weeks later a letter embossed with a familiar seal makes its way into Gaara’s hands.

He smiles.